Aphrodite's Dance
by A Fire in the Attic
Summary: Bella Swan: irrevocably in love with Jasper Hale, unfortunately attracted to Edward Cullen, who hates her. Leave it to Alice to wreck everything. ExB, RxEm AH, AU
1. Preface

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

* * *

**Preface**

* * *

Have you ever felt like you're dying? Like the very air you're breathing in won't sustain you. It leaves as soon as it enters, vanishing, leaving you breathless. Or maybe you feel like you're literally falling to pieces, and your heart is going to explode in your chest, blowing blood and tissue across the room. Or it feels like your skin is on fire, turning black and peeling back, crispy and dilapidated.

Have you ever felt that way?

Now, sitting in the Cullens' hallway, my breath is coming in short gasps. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to fill my lungs. My heart is pounding so hard my chest aches. I can barely think; my brain is merely filled with an image I never wanted to imagine.

How could this happen?

There are so many ways to die—by man, in my sleep, suicide, diseases…but I think the worst is from heartbreak.

Just my luck. Let the heartache begin.


	2. A Bit of a History Lesson

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or the characters thereof. I also do not own Craig's Brother, Sonic the Hedgehog or the characters thereof, Nintendo64, Playstation (the original!), the Wii, the Xbox, Abercrombie, Wendy's or the affiliated food and beverages, Home Depot, Nutty Buddies, Mountain Dew, Sex on the Beach, Yale, Harvard, Starbucks or the affiliated coffees, the Tucson Sidewinders, or the Florida Marlins. Or a Chihuahua.

* * *

**Chapter 1 – A Bit of a History Lesson

* * *

**

Emmett Cullen has been my best friend since the fourth grade, when he accidentally hit me in the face with a basketball.

Recesses were painful for me back then. I had no true friends, only Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory. Their idea of fun was flirting with boys, which was sort of creepy if you think about it because we were in the fourth grade. They had apparently reached the stage where boys were suddenly attractive.

I, on the other hand, was somewhere between 'boys have cooties' and 'boys are _actually_ humans! Weird!' I think that's where our male counterparts were, if not stuck on the 'girls have cooties' phase. Naturally, they didn't appreciate the advances made by my friends.

That day, I zoned out, as usual, while Lou and Jess gushed about some guy. He was a new kid, already pretty tall for his age. I guess he was sort of good-looking, you know, if you like fifth graders, which they did.

Personally, I preferred cats.

It was around the time that ball hit me in the face, and I'd been sitting on a bench, wondering if I'd remembered to feed my mom's Chihuahua. I usually avoided the thing, as we had a sort of mutual dislike. My mom was crazy about Butch, though, so I didn't question his right to stay. Despite her love for the beast, she rarely remembered to feed it.

As it was, I didn't see the huge orange ball flying towards me. I only became aware of its presence after it had collided with my face. My head snapped back, and the ball continued on its path of destruction, after it had changed directions and was now bouncing back towards the court.

"Dude!" The new boy, the one that Lou and Jess had been gushing about was suddenly standing over me. "Are you okay?"

"Ow," I remarked, rubbing my now tender face. I looked up at him, "I'm okay."

"Hey, man, I'm really sorry about that. I tried to catch it…" He rubbed the back of his head as he trailed off.

"Hey, don't worry about it," I muttered as I straightened up. "My bad for not seeing it in time."

He laughed, "What would you have done about it?" He shook his head, still laughing, "I'm Emmett, by the way."

"Bella," I said easily. Emmett was very likable, though not in the way that Lou and Jess had gone on about him. _Yuck_. "This is Lou. Jess." I gestured to them as I mentioned them, and he nodded at each.

"Hey," he said simply, but I'm pretty sure that both Lou and Jess were hyperventilating from the single word.

I smirked at their awestruck faces.

"Well, hey, I gotta get back to the game - you wanna play?" he smiled cheerfully at me.

"That probably isn't the best idea," I began, but when his face fell, I sighed. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you," I said as I stood up.

I guess Lou's mouth started working again because she burst out laughing, "Bella," she choked out, "Playing basketball?"

Emmett looked at her strangely. He leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Does she always act like this?"

I shrugged, "Only when I'm about to hurt myself."

He nodded, as if this made perfect sense, "Come on," he said, grabbing my arm, "Let's play!"

We ran back to the game, with me only stumbling once or twice. Someone had already retrieved the ball, so it was back in play.

"Bella's on my team," Emmett yelled.

Mike Newton glanced at me. "Bella's gonna play _basketball_? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Nope," I said simply.

We ran around the court; Emmett focused on the ball, while I focused on not tripping. I wasn't exactly the most graceful girl, and I should have been watching out for the ball. I had no doubt that it would hit me before we were done playing.

"BELLA!" Emmett yelled, "It's comin' your way!"

My head snapped up. Sure enough, the orange demon was flying towards me. Unsure of what the best move would be, ducking or trying to catch it, I weakly stretched out my arms. Luckily, I was taller than most of the guys who were playing with us. I reached over their heads and caught the ball.

For a second I was too stunned to know what to do with it. I, Bella Swan, fourth grade klutz, had caught a basketball? And didn't trip?

Then all of the eyes turned to me. They started racing towards me. I screamed and threw the ball in what I hoped was Emmett's general direction. Turns out, Emmett was nowhere near the area. The hoop was.

By some stroke of fate, it was heading directly for the hoop. Everyone had turned away from me and was watching, awestruck. Would the ball _actually_ go in? It arced towards the rim and…

The ball didn't make it in, but it bounced right into Emmett's waiting hands. He was focused on the game, whereas everyone else had to refocus on getting the ball back. They'd been so stunned that they'd forgotten their aim in the game. He shot the ball, and, much more gracefully, it fell through the hoop. Our team erupted into cheers, and Emmett raced over to hug me.

"Whoa, there, Emmett, can't breathe!"

"Sorry, Charlie," he said with a wink as he leaned back.

"That's my daddy's name," I said, giggling.

The bell rang, and Emmett said, "You'll play tomorrow, too, right? You're like a good luck charm or somethin'."

I laughed, "Yeah, sure."

After that, I played with Emmett everyday, whether we played basketball, football, or Sonic the Hedgehog - which consisted of running around aimlessly and taking names like 'Sonic', 'Shadow', or 'Tails.'

One of the best things about Emmett was that there were no rules when we played games. As he'd said, "Rules are for squares! And we're rectangles." That was, in essence, Emmett. The most fun guy around town. Best of all, he didn't require me to check out guys. Jess and Lou were still my friends, of course, but I didn't hang out with them at recess anymore.

When the year was over, Emmett and I exchanged phone numbers, promising to hang out over the summer. Emmett was going on to the sixth grade, but I was only going into fifth.

That summer was amazing. Emmett and I hung out constantly, most of the time at his house, since my parents were fighting a lot by then. He invited me to his birthday, and I went, even though I was the only girl there. We played video games on his Nintendo 64 and PlayStation. Back then, the Wii and Xbox had yet to be invented.

When school started, I resorted to hanging out with Mike. He was pretty fun, all things considered. Not like Emmett, but still more fun than Jess and Lou, not that I didn't love them, too. Tyler soon joined our group, and we had a blast.

Nevertheless, I was ecstatic when it was time for Middle School and I got to hang out with Emmett again. Throughout the year I'd still gone over to his house on weekends, so it wasn't awkward when we started hanging out at school.

Emmett introduced me to Jasper Hale. I'd seen Jasper before, back in Elementary School, but he'd always been really quiet, so I had never talked to him before. We were all fast friends. And…secretly I was in love with Jasper. He was my first crush. It was sort of stunning, actually. Bella Swan didn't do _crushes_. But the second I saw him, I wondered why I'd thought guys were gross before. He was sweet, nice, not to mention cute, and didn't think I was stupid. He was perfect.

Eighth grade rolled around much too soon for my liking, and Emmett and Jasper moved on to High School, leaving me behind—again.

Just like in fifth grade, I eagerly anticipated the end of the year and my return to Emmett and Jasper, along with ninth grade. But I enjoyed my time with two new girls, Alice and Angela. They were sisters, Alice being in my grade, and Angela in the grade below. Alice was really shy and quiet, so she followed Angela and I around. Angela was the sweetest person who ever existed, so of course she didn't mind.

At this point Mike and Tyler went through the awkward phase where all girls were suddenly attractive. At least, that was all I could figure out. Why else would Mike seem to enjoy following me around? Tyler made it clear he was interested in me, but had left me alone about it when I'd said no. Mike made it clear that my reaction to his attentions didn't matter, which made me want to smack him, and in general, not be around him.

The attention didn't totally annoy me, though. If you think about it, it was a positive sort of attention. Whether or not it annoyed me was a different matter, and I needed positivity in my life, all things considered.

My home life was deteriorating. My parents fought constantly, more than they had when I was in elementary. I had wanted to stay out of the house during fifth grade, especially when both of my parents were home. By eighth grade I tried to be at a friend's house every Friday. Sometimes I invited friends over, since my parents would actually make an effort to get along when someone came. Still, I wasn't allowed to have slumber parties. My mom had kicked my dad out of their room, and he had to sleep on the couch. Slumber parties were pretty much out of the question.

After I 'graduated' from eighth grade, I was practically bouncing with joy everywhere I went. I'd get to see Emmett again, and of course, the beautiful Jasper. Even my parents' doom and gloom moods couldn't bring me down from that high.

Throughout my eighth grade year, Emmett, Jasper, and I had still played sports together on the weekends when Emmett wasn't busy bench pressing, which he did that obsessively. Apparently, it had something to do with Rosalie, Jasper's sister. I'd met her once, and she had scared the crap out of me. She was sort of preppy, with her Abercrombie t-shirts and blue jeans, though she never wore torn ones. I guess they weren't 'classy'.

On the last day of school, I went home with Angela and Alice. Somehow Angela had convinced her parents to let her throw a 'graduation' party for Alice and I.

We were a relatively small group: Alice, Angela, Mike, Tyler, and me. By default, Jess and Lou were where Mike and Tyler were, so they too joined our group. We had planned on inviting Jasper and Emmett, but they already had plans. So, they couldn't come. It wasn't a slumber party or a drink-until-your-mind-is-gone sort of party, just a gathering of friends celebrating the end of middle school. There was no booze, drugs, Seven Minutes in Heaven, or anything like that. We didn't even play Truth or Dare. I suppose as far as parties go, ours was pretty lame. We all had fun, though, simply spending time together.

That night when I got home, we had lasagna. I was instantly suspicious. Mom only made something edible when she was buttering Daddy—or me—up. She liked to experiment, and generally, her experiments weren't edible. This usually left her so frustrated that she refused to cook anything after that, which left me to create something that _was_ edible. Needless to say, I'm a fairly decent cook.

I couldn't think of anything Mom could do to make me mad, so I figured she must have been trying to get Daddy in her good graces. Maybe she needed something. I wondered how that was working out. They'd been giving each other the silent treatment for the last week.

I wisely didn't comment on my suspicions, however. I ate the food with relish. It was nice to be fed every once in a while.

After dinner, disaster struck. Mom told me to pack my bags because she and I were leaving Forks. I threw a fit. I didn't want to go. I screamed about how all my friends were here, and how it would be too hot in Phoenix, where she wanted to go. Then something she'd said struck me, "Wait a minute - You said that you and I are going to Phoenix?"

Carefully, Mom nodded. She was watching me warily, I guess because she thought I would explode again. She wasn't far off of the mark.

"What about Daddy?" I asked, glancing at my dad. Before, I'd always called him Daddy. It was just what I did. Now, I call him Dad, since 'Daddy' is sort of a childish name. I have to be the mature one, the responsible one. I don't have time for childish things.

He was sitting on the edge of the couch, obviously trying very hard not to cry. He had his hands clasped together and stared at his feet, unable to look at Mom or me.

"He's not coming," Renee said, her voice suddenly high. I couldn't think of her as 'Mom' anymore; I was way too upset with her.

"Can I stay with him, then?" I asked hopefully.

Renee frowned and glanced at Daddy. "'Fraid not, sweetie."

Later, I would find out that my parents were divorced, and had just been living together until the school year was over for me. As soon as I had completed the year, I'd be moving with my mom to Phoenix, Arizona, since she had full custody of me. The only time I'd be allowed to stay with him was during the summer and every other Christmas. But the only thing that I could see was my mom selfishly taking me away from my home and my friends, not to mention my father.

I was pissed, but Renee could not be swayed. Angrily, I stormed to my room. I could already feel the angry tears forming as I stuffed my clothes into a bag. Everything I didn't need for the next week would be coming down with the movers by the next Friday.

With tears still running down my face and stinging my eyes, I called Emmett.

"Hello?" Esme had answered the phone; Her voice was sweet and motherly—scratch that, it was the sound of the kind of mother I would have liked. Unlike my own mother, who apparently couldn't understand why I would want to stay with my father.

"Is Emmett there?" I sniffed. I didn't have time to be polite. I needed my best friend.

"Yes, dear, just a minute." I heard her call for Emmett, and sighed. He was so lucky. I would have killed for a mom like Esme.

"Hello?" Emmett had answered.

"Hey, Em," I whispered.

"Bella? You okay?" He knew I whispered when I was crying to make it less obvious.

"No," I answered honestly. It did no good to lie to Emmett. Even when he couldn't see me, he knew when I was being less than truthful. "We're moving to Phoenix. Well, Mom and I are. Dad's not coming."

"Moving?" he gasped. "But Bella—"

"I know," I muttered. "Mom just told me to pack my bags. I guess we're leaving tonight."

"And she just now told you? That - that sucks."

"Yeah," I said with a cracking voice.

"Well, you'll come back to visit, right? Because your dad lives here, and you can call me every week, on Fridays," Emmett said, trying to see the bright side.

"Oh," I said suddenly, "my parents are divorced."

"Uh…yeah…" Emmett said slowly, as though it should have been obvious. Of course it should have, but I was going through a traumatic experience. Thoughts were taking a while to form.

"Sorry, I just didn't think about it. But I'll do my best to visit, and of course I'll call you, as soon as we get a phone. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too, Clumsy."

I smiled at his nickname for me.

Renee burst into the room then. "Hang up, Bella. We're leaving."

"I have to go, Em. I'll call you as soon as I can. Bye."

"Bye, Bella," he said sorrowfully. "Talk to you soon."

After that, I refused to speak to my mom. Emmett had helped me to relax for a bit, but as soon as I hung up the phone, I was angry again. Throughout the two-day drive to Phoenix, Renee anxiously filled the car with chatter. Butch barked in time with her. I remained silent, not speaking.

The second we arrived in Phoenix, I hated it. Everything was brown. There were no trees. The city was huge, and we lived on the crappy side of town.

I said not a word as we pulled up to our house. Apparently, Renee had already made the down payment and had been making monthly payments for seven months.

"What do you think of the house? I bought it when I went on that business trip. We can buy a cactus or a tree, if you want some shade. Do you want to see the school you'll be going to next year? I signed you up for a ballet class, so you can meet some girls before you go to school in the fall. Plus, I already got you a library card, so you can go do that as soon as you want. You can pick any room you want. Here, come help me unload the car."

I stayed in my seat as she fluttered about, getting our bags from the trunk. I got out of the car slowly and glared at the house in front of me. I watched as Renee dashed by, opening the door and tugging our bags through. I sighed and closed the trunk. I locked and closed the doors, walking silently up the walkway.

The house was empty, of course. We hadn't bought our furniture yet, so we'd have to sleeping on the floor.

I hated the way Renee never thought anything through.

Butch jumped on me the second the door was shut. I gently nudged him aside, even in my anger I didn't condone animal abuse, and walked down the hallway. I found Renee and began to glare at her. If she thought she was off the hook, she was wrong.

"I thought you might like this room. What do you think?" When I didn't respond, she plunged on nervously, "You can paint it however you like, whatever color you want. I'm going to go get our furniture and everything like that tomorrow. You can come with me to pick _everything_ out - everything for this room, the living room, the bathroom, whatever you want. It'll be like decorating your very own house."

I sighed and left the room. My mother was incorrigible. Renee followed me like a lost puppy, but I ignored her, and sat down on the floor of what I supposed was our living room. I stared at the wall, and traced shapes in the popcorn texture - another thing to hate.

Renee ruffled my hair; I didn't respond. "What do you want for dinner? We're going to have to go out. I hope that's okay. How about Wendy's? There's one close by. Would you like to go there?"

I gave her a look. I hoped it said 'Are you an idiot?'

Apparently not, since she grabbed my arm and pulled me out to the car. When we got to the Wendy's, she looked at me and asked, "What do you want?" When I didn't answer, she ordered what I normally order—five-piece chicken nuggets, value fries, and a chocolate Frosty.

I didn't talk to her all week. I wrote a letter to dad asking him to send me my 'I heart Forks' t-shirt collection. That had been a joke between Renee and I, who detested Forks and its rain. She knew I wouldn't wear them, since I thought wearing a shirt in support of your hometown was retarded, especially when you still lived there. I decided I would wear them everyday just to irritate her.

We went to Home Depot to buy paint, and when I pointed to the black paint, Renee shook her head and gestured to other colors. I sighed and pointed to a dark purple. When she shook her head, I chose a lighter purple, and Renee agreed. Renee picked out mint green, navy blue, and dark red for the rest of the house, and then we left.

I started painting my room as soon as she opened the can. Renee left the room, heading into the living room to paint it mint green. Of course she would paint the opening room in the drabbest of the colors she'd selected.

I painted in big block letters 'I HATE PHOENIX' on one wall. I changed walls and wrote 'I HEART FORKS'. The other two walls I started to paint solid purple. When I ran out of paint, I went to find my mother. I tapped on her shoulder and pointed to my empty paint can.

She pointed to the stack of cans in the corner. She'd decided that she wasn't going to talk to me until I talked to her, but I doubted it would last. Let's be honest, I was horrible at holding grudges, but my mother was worse at it. She would crack before I did.

I returned to my room and painted smiley faces and trees on the Forks wall. I picked up a pencil and sketched Emmett and I playing basketball with the room I had left. I used a smaller paintbrush to fill in the picture. I stepped back to observe my work. For a purple and white picture, I thought it was a good likeness.

I considered sketching Jasper, but remembering how he affected me, I decided I'd never get to sleep if I had a picture of him in my room, even a purple and white sketch. Beside that, I didn't feel as though I could portray him and do justice to his beauty.

I turned to the Phoenix wall and sketched cacti, tumbleweeds, and little lines to represent the wind. I may have been exaggerating, but I didn't care. Using the small paintbrush, I filled in the tumbleweeds and traced the wind lines. I picked up the bigger one to fill in the cacti. When I finished that, I added rocks, lots and lots of rocks. I should have picked brown paint to portray how bland Phoenix really was.

I decided I was finished and trooped out of the room to see if we had gotten around to buying food. I found some Nutty Buddies in the cabinet and was biting into the second bar when Renee burst into the room.

"Bella," she screeched, "repaint your room!"

I blinked, and shook my head. I liked it the way it was.

"Right now, Bella!"

I decided she probably wouldn't shut up unless I answered her. "But, Renee," I said sweetly, as she flinched. She must have realized I stopped thinking of her as 'Mom' when we'd moved there. "You said I could paint it however I wanted."

Her mouth opened, and then shut. "Bella, I know you're angry. I know you don't like it here. But like it or not, you're stuck here. And another thing, you have to call me 'Mom' as long as you live under the same roof as me."

"So if I move in with _Daddy_," I said, emphasizing his name. "I can call you 'Renee'?"

Renee kicked the wall and stormed out of the room.

Butch whined. I'd been conveniently 'forgetting' to feed him, so he must have been starving.

I sighed. I didn't like hurting Butch, no matter how upset I was with Renee. I picked up his bowl and his food and put it in front of him. After that, I went to my room to make sure that Renee hadn't tried to undo my work. When I saw that she'd covered the word 'HATE' on the Phoenix wall with a big heart, I picked up my paintbrush, dipped it into the can, and circled the heart. I drew a line down the middle of the heart and circle. A nice do-not sign. I stood back to admire my work, and nodded in a pleased way.

Renee walked into the room, saw what I had done, screamed a curse word, and then left the room. I shrugged; it didn't bother me any. I ate the rest of my Nutty Buddy bar in peace.

The next time I spoke to Renee was a few days later. I was eating a ham and cheese sandwich alone in the kitchen and dining room conjugation, taking a break from painting the room with the red paint—Renee had read somewhere that the color red made people hungrier. Guess she thought it would make her experiments more edible. I was _almost_ enjoying myself. Butch was bugging Renee, or as she liked to refer to it 'giving her love'. Yeah, right.

Renee flounced into the dining room, Butch at her heels. "Bella," she sang. "Guess what? I signed you up for a ballet class today! It's in twenty minutes, so we need to leave in ten. Go put on your leotard."

I rolled my eyes and kept eating my sandwich. Did she honestly think that I, clumsy as I was, would go do ballet?

"Now, Bella."

"Renee. Don't be silly."

"Bella, get ready now," she said, her eyes narrowing.

"Is this getting to be a habit of yours? Telling people about important things right before they happen?" I asked.

She flinched, "No arguments, Bella," she said as she tossed me a leotard.

"Just like last time," I commented, and then walked away.

As I had suspected, ballet was horrible. I stumbled while we stretched, and knocked over a girl with a platinum blond bun on the top of her head. She wore a pink leotard. Obviously, she was attempting to look professional…and succeeding, I might add. She had grace I could only dream of, and looked about six years younger than me.

I hated ballet and the people in it. Why stop there? I hated Phoenix, and all of its inhabitants. Including my mother.

When I got in the car, I glared at Renee. "I am never going in there again."

"Bella," she began, but I cut her off.

"No. I'll be quiet about Phoenix…for now. But I'm not repainting my room, and I'm not dancing in a ballet studio with a bunch of eight-year-olds!"

Renee frowned, but wisely didn't argue.

School was horrible. I refused to make friends, focusing solely on my schoolwork. I took extra classes so that I would be away from home more, and even started going to church on Sundays.

I was fifteen in the ninth grade, since my birthday came just after the cut off date. I found it hard to relate to the tan Phoenix ninth graders, already a year younger than me, and so I didn't attempt to like them. We were just too different.

When I brought home my first report card—nine A's, thanks to the extra classes I was taking—Renee nearly choked on her Mountain Dew. I didn't blame her. In Forks, I'd been a B's and C's student, and low B's at that.

"Bella…how are you even making time for this?" she asked, confused.

"I don't do anything but schoolwork, Renee. I go to school; I go to the library. Sometimes, I even come home," I quipped.

"You should make some friends."

"I don't want any. They'll never compare to the ones I lost."

Emmett and I had sort of fallen out of contact. I'd called him as soon as we got a phone, and every Friday after that for a couple of weeks, but eventually, we'd run out of things to talk about.

I was seriously feeling the lack of friends, no matter what I said to Renee. I hadn't reached out to anyone at my new school, but they hadn't reached out to me, either. I felt angrier than usual most of the time, and really depressed. I could tell Renee was getting worried, and I found this strangely gratifying. I chalked my anger and depression up to my all around bad situation and my bad attitude, though I didn't want to admit that at the time.

Right before Christmas Break began, my attitude was drastically altered. I had just gotten home from the library after studying for a project, and was ready to crash. I was planning on showering and going to bed without eating dinner, and preferably, not talking to Renee.

"Bella?" Renee called tiredly. Her voice was scratchy, like she'd been crying.

Despite myself, I was worried. I went into her room, saw her sitting on her bed with her knees pulled up to her chest, and her head resting on them.

"Mom," I whispered. Calling her 'Mom' was an automatic reaction when she was crying. I dropped my backpack to the floor and rushed over to her bed. "What's wrong?"

She only started crying again. "You…called me…'Mom'," she whispered.

Guilt stabbed my heart and twisted deeply. I looked down. I'd been angry with Mom, furious, really, but I'd never wanted to hurt her this badly, not really. "I'm so sorry, Mom," I whispered, climbing onto the bed and hugging her tightly. "I've been…really childish."

Mom laughed quietly—I was thinking of her as 'Mom' again. "Childish? Really?" She sniffed, and wrapped an arm around me. "I guess I was, too. Charlie wanted to make it work; he never wanted to lose you…or me. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't love him anymore, but I wasn't thinking about what was good for you."

Inexplicably, I found myself crying, too. I hugged her tighter, and cried on her shoulder. We both sobbed quietly, clinging to each other. I ended up falling asleep there, and awoke when Mom shook me quietly.

"Do you want the shower first?" she asked quietly.

"No," I murmured quietly, closing my eyes. "You can have it. I'll make breakfast."

Mom nodded and left me to sort out my thoughts.

For a while I laid on the bed, breathing though my nose with my eyes closed. The room smelled like incense. Since we'd moved to Phoenix, Mom had been trying numerous different things to help her relax, and she was currently in the incense phase. Before she'd been using Chinese lanterns, stress balls, worry rocks, whatever worked. Her little experiments generally lasted about a week before she decided they weren't working anymore. Everything she got tired of ended up in my room—the Chinese lanterns strung from my ceiling and the worry rocks and stress balls sitting on my dressers, all frequently used.

I inhaled the so-called 'Sex on the Beach' scent, and got up slowly. I was still wearing my clothing from the day before, and I looked down at them in distaste. They were wrinkled and sweaty from a not-so-great night. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. Time to get up.

Yawning, I made my way to the fridge and pulled out a couple of eggs. Mom liked her eggs sunny-side up. I liked mine over-medium.

I made mine first, since I figured Mom would take a while in the shower. When it was done, I flipped it onto a plate, and then ate it while making Mom's. Mom entered the room just as I finished making hers.

"Here," I murmured, handing her the egg on a plate.

She kissed my forehead. "The shower's all yours," she murmured. "Thank you, sweetie."

I hugged her again, lingering in her embrace. "I missed you," I whispered.

"I missed you, too," she replied, smiling. "Now go shower. I got some new soap…supposed to be relaxing. Speaking of which, I think I'm going to get a new scent of incense. Do you want the Sex on the Beach?"

"Mom, you have no idea how awkward that sounded," I muttered, kissing her cheek quickly. "Sure."

"I'll pick up the…uh…holder thingy…when I get my new incense. 'Kay?"

Smiling and laughing at my mom, I nodded in agreement. "Love you."

After that, we spent a lot more time together. On the weekends we rented movies and walked in parks. She started coming to the church I'd been attending. Neither of us had any idea of what denomination it was, but it never bothered us. I painted my walls completely purple, but continued wearing the 'I heart Forks' t-shirts.

I still didn't make any friends at school, but continued to have perfect grades. Mom was really pleased about this, declaring that I'd be class valedictorian if I kept this up, and that I could go to Yale or Harvard or wherever I pleased. We were pretty low on income, so the only way I'd get into college was probably with a scholarship. Charlie sent more than was necessary for child support and Mom worked odd jobs during the day, losing a job to someone more experienced almost as soon as she got it. She had quite a resume, from what I heard from her. Even so, we were still behind financially.

She was working at a Starbucks shop when she met Phil.

Apparently, he was a regular, showing up every morning to order his favorite coffee: the Terraza blend. Mom said he'd always done it, but I think she had something to do with his regularity. She also said he was 'absolutely amazing and wonderful'.

Maybe I was feeling petty or whatever, but I felt really betrayed when she said that. I don't know if it was because she was so completely in love with someone and so she wouldn't be spending as much time with me. Weird how you can go from hating someone to being unable to live without them. Or maybe it was because I'd never heard her describe my father like that. This made up a big chunk of my jealousy of Phil, if not most of it. I never had to really worry about my other concern, since Mom and Phil often took me with them.

I liked Phil, I really did. I just didn't really want him to be in love with my mom, or for her to be in love with him. What I'd been hoping, all the while I had been acting like a child, was that my parents would realize that they'd made a mistake and would get back together—in Forks. Charlie would still have been a part of my life, other than the child support payments he sent every month, and I'd have been back with my friends.

Maybe they sensed this. I don't know. In any case, Mom and Phil dated a year and a half before he popped the question. I was sixteen at the time.

Mom still went through crazy phases, but Phil was always there to make sure that she didn't hurt herself. It was nice not being the only responsible one.

One week, Mom decided she wanted to have her wedding in Brazil, of all places. Phil and I exchanged a look, and sighed.

"I'll get the passports made," I said.

"I'll buy the tickets," Phil volunteered.

Mom beamed.

Of course, that fell through, but the passports were already being made. We received them six months later, after they were married. Luckily, I'd thought to put Mom's new name on them, rather than Swan.

Phil was a minor league baseball player. He was a member of the Tucson Sidewinders, so he brought in some much needed cash. He traveled a lot, so sometimes it was just Mom and I. I could tell Mom missed Phil a lot.

And so two years and seven months after moving to Phoenix, I made a decision. The decision, surprisingly, was easy enough to make, probably because I'd been looking for a way to get it done for the last two and a half years. The real challenge was how to carry it out.

"Mom," I said one day, sliding into the seat next to her and Phil. "We need to talk."

Mom gasped dramatically, sitting up straight. "Are you breaking up with me?" she teased.

"Sort of," I said.

Confusion clouded her face. "Mom," I began, hesitating, "when Phil goes on his trips with the team, I know you miss him…a lot. And he's probably going to get signed soon." Here I paused to bump fists with Phil. Mom rolled her eyes. "And you'll miss him even more. I know you want to go with him on his trips, but you don't want to leave me at home by myself."

Mom nodded guiltily.

"So," I hedged. "I came up with a solution."

Mom and Phil nodded, signaling for me to continue. Mom looked a little wary, like she had an idea of where this was going.

"I move in with Dad."

Mom, like I had expected, frowned. "No."

Phil, like I had expected, thought about it before answering. "I don't know, Renee. It makes sense."

"But, Charlie…"

"Mom, I miss Dad." Actually, I had just returned from Forks for Christmas. That had only strengthened my resolve to return to it. "And I miss Forks. I miss my friends. Besides that, you know I don't like Phoenix all that much…"

"But the divorce agreement…" Mom said, her eyes widening.

"It can't be that hard to change," I said quietly. "I know Dad won't complain about it."

Mom pouted. "Bella…let me think about it."

That made my heart soar. If she was going to think about it, there was a chance that it could work.

"That's all I ask," I said calmly.

The next morning, when Mom walked into the kitchen and took in the sight of me studying for Physics, she sighed. "You honestly have no life here, do you?"

"You're my one and only friend," I confirmed. "Well, the Physics book is pretty high up there, too."

She smiled sadly. "You can go."

For a second, I wasn't sure I'd heard her right. "To Forks?"

"No, to Spoons," she said sarcastically. I couldn't help but smile at this. "Yes, sweetie, to your father. You'll be there by the eighteenth."

I hugged her tightly. "Thanks so much, Mom," I whispered. "It'll be good for both of us."

She hugged me back, and I felt tears run down her face.

"Don't cry, Mom," I murmured. "I'll e-mail you everyday, and I'll call you every Friday. What am I doing in the summers and Christmas?" I asked.

"You'll be with me. Wherever that is. It looks like we might move down to Florida. Phil got requested by the minor team down there and if he does well enough, he might get signed to the Marlins."

"The Florida Marlins… They're major league, right? That would be awesome."

"Yeah. We can only hope." She sighed. "I'll miss you so much."

"I'll miss you, too."

I'd never been so happy in my life, except after playing basketball with Emmett…or flirting with Jasper, subtly, of course.

* * *

**Monday, January 19, 2009**

I'm sitting in Dad's car, practically vibrating with excitement to be back home.

Dad looks over at my bouncing form and smiles. "Happy, huh?"

"A little," I admit easily.

"I got you a present," Dad says proudly.

"Dad," I say, exasperated. "You just showered me with gifts during Christmas."

He just smiles. "This one is a homecoming present."

He pulls up to his—_our_—house. There's an old red truck sitting outside, so I ask, "Who's here?"

"We are," he says, grinning.

I roll my eyes. My dad… "Whose truck is that?"

"Yours." He shuts off the engine and gets out of the car before I have a chance to respond.

I undo my seat belt and throw the door of his squad car open. "Mine?" I shriek.

"Bella, Bella," he chides. "Shh. This is a quiet neighborhood, so let's keep it that way, all right? Or I'll have to arrest you for disturbing the peace."

"It's _mine_?" I gasp again.

He puts his hands in his pockets, and rocks back on his heels. He looks at me, then at the truck, and then back again. "Yeah," he says, drawing the word out.

"No freaking way" is the only thing I can force out. "Thank you _so_ much. You have _no_ idea what it means to me."

He smiles. "Come on. Let's get your stuff inside."

After dragging my choice possessions up the stairs, he leads me to my room. "Here ya go. You know where everything is."

"Yeah." It hasn't changed in the two weeks I've been gone, and neither had Forks. I wondered what school would be like the next day. What would the children I'd grown up with be like now? It was nerve wracking, but exciting as well.

After putting my clothes in the dresser, I tromp down the stairs. "Dad, do the Cullens still live here?"

"Yep. Actually, they recently adopted a kid into the family. Edwin or something."

"Adopted?" I question. Esme and Carlisle were Emmett's biological parents. Why would they need to adopt?

"About a month after you left, Mrs. Cullen got pregnant. She miscarried, but was really messed up about it, so Dr. Cullen signed the family up to be a foster home. They had a few younger foster children, but then Edwin, or whatever his name is, was their foster child for about a year. They adopted him for real a few weeks ago. He's a good kid, never in trouble with me. Really smart, from what I hear. He'll be in some of your advanced classes. Speaking of which, I picked up your schedule yesterday. Hold on." He digs through a pile of papers on the table. Triumphantly, he raises a slip of paper. He hands it to me.

I take it, and read the courses listed.

"They were really hard pressed to find classes you could take. You've taken nearly all of the courses they offer, so you'll probably be taking a few extra electives next year."

"Fine by me," I say with a grin. The only things I miss about Phoenix are the school courses themselves. Phoenix high schools have a lot of extra courses available, so I've already taken most of the things required for the Forks curriculum.

Unfortunately, I'm still required to take an English, science, math, and social studies class every year, so I'm still stuck with a full schedule next year.

"Gym," I groan. In Phoenix, gym was my least favorite class.

"I thought you liked basketball," Dad says.

"I do. Well, I like street ball. No rules." It was okay if you knocked someone over in street ball, something I tend to do a lot, normally after tripping on air. But in a real game, I'll probably get fouled before they realize that I'm just clumsy. I decide not to explain that to Dad, though, since he'll probably only laugh.

"Are you hungry? You don't need to cook tonight; we'll go out," Dad says.

During my stays in Forks, I take over the cooking. Dad gives me the money, I buy the food and put it together. "Okay. Let me grab my shoes."

When I return, Dad is leaning against the counter, holding a set of keys I don't recognize. He tosses them to me, and by some stroke of fate, I manage to catch them—almost. They slip from my hand, and so I lean down to pick them up. "You wanna drive?" he asks.

"Seriously?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says, grinning. "Speed up the traffic a little, eh?"

I smile. Nothing slows down traffic like a squad car.

At the diner, I order a burger with a basket of fries. Dad orders a steak and blueberry cobbler.

His eyes grow misty as he says, "Your mom and I used to come here just for the cobbler."

I smile at him and rest a hand on his. It's easy to see he never stopped loving Mom.

Just then, the door bangs open, and a girl with long black hair rushes into the restaurant. She's wearing the diner uniform and looks quite out of breath. "Lynn? Sorry I'm late! My car's in the shop, so I had to catch a ride with my sister's boyfriend…"

The boyfriend in question steps into the diner. He's tall with bronze hair and green eyes. His face is angular, and he bears the pale skin of the typical Forks inhabitant. He's beautiful. "Sorry, ma'am. I wasn't aware she needed a ride until about ten minutes ago."

"That's Edwin," Dad says, seeing my gaze.

The manager, Lynn, just shakes her head. "It's alright, Angie. Here, take these to table five."

Edwin—if that really is his name—looks at me suddenly. His uncaring expression doesn't change, but something flickers in his eyes. Almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head, as though to clear it. He looks away, back to Angie. "Bye, Angie." He opens the door and slips back to his silver Volvo.

"Bye, Edward! Thanks again," Angie sings, taking the trays and dancing over to our table. As she's setting them down, her gaze falls on me and a big smile breaks across her face. "Bella Swan?"

I grin. "That's me. What's up, Angela?"

"I go by Angie, now. When did you get back in town? Are you here for good, or are you still here on Christmas vacation?" She sets the trays down in front of us.

"I got here today, and it looks like this is a permanent visit." I wink at my dad and nudge him.

"Will you be at school tomorrow?" Angie asks.

"Yeah."

"Awesome! You'll have to sit with Alice and me at lunch. And Edward, of course."

"Edward?" I ask, tilting my head. I shoot my dad a look. _Edwin_? Is he serious?

"The guy who drove me here." She gestures vaguely in the direction of the road. "He's Emmett's adoptive brother and Alice's boyfriend."

"Wow," I say, stretching the word out into three syllables.

"I _know_," she says. "Well, hey, I can't talk now, gotta work. Nice seeing you, though." She clears her throat. "My name is Angela, and I will be your server tonight. Let me know if there's anything else I can get you."

I giggle, and Dad smiles. "We'll let you know."

After we eat and head home, Dad watches basketball. I check my e-mail. It's a very restful evening, which is nice for me. I'm used to constant movement from Mom, so it was nice to be sitting still.

After replying to Mom's flustered e-mail, I head upstairs to shower.

When I finish, I yell that I'm going to bed, and Dad grunts in response. My dad, the caveman. I sigh, shaking my head.

As I curl up under the covers, I can't help but be excited about tomorrow and whatever it will bring.

* * *

A/N: **Hey, so here's something really cool...you can go to my blog to get a preview of the next chapter. The link is on my profile. :) **

Keeping it quick:-She changes to present tense towards the end because the beginning was a flashback.

-She thought it was awkward that her mom asked her about the incense because a) it's an alcoholic beverage, and b) if you didn't know that it was alcohol, it would sound a lot worse than it actually is. Kinda weird, considering her mother was asking the question.

-Also, I don't drink coffee, so I don't know if the Terraza blend is any good. I just went to the Starbucks website and picked out a flavor.

-Bella calls Charlie 'Dad'. She's seen how much it can hurt her parents to call them by their first names, and so she doesn't. (Not that all parents are like that, but hers are.)


	3. Cardiac Arrest

A/N: I feel compelled to tell you this. I was reading MLIA today, and found out two things...first, there's a My Life is Twilight (It's really sad to find out how many people own life-sized cardboard cut outs of Edward) and two, Twilight is on a fourth grade reading level. I for one, am not surprised.

Shout out to my Betas, Delcesca Newby and Indefinite Leave Chick (her name is always changing...) They also beta'd the last two updates, I just neglected to mention them. I'm a bad person...:(

Once again, head to my profile to go to my blog to get sneak previews of the next chapter and songs that go with each update. :)

Disclaimer: Hmmm…Nope, I still don't own Twilight, or any of the characters. And I was really hoping to own Emmett for a while…I also don't own Muse or the associated songs and albums, _The Scarlet Letter_ by Nathaniel Hawthorne, Jostens, InDesign CS3, PCs, Macs, Photoshop, Windows Vista, Abercrombie, Wet Seal, or General Sherman, the biggest tree in the world.

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Cardiac Arrest

* * *

**

**Tuesday, January 20, 2009**

When I wake up, I carefully dress myself in dark blue skinny jeans and a black Muse T-shirt. I apply minimal makeup: eyeliner, mascara, and foundation. Just enough that my black eyelashes accent my pale skin, and vice versa. My hair is naturally curly, and so I style it with the 'wet curls' look. I examine myself in the mirror. I decide that this is as good as it will get, and turn away.

As a general rule, I care very little about how I look. But today has to go _perfect_, so I may as well look good—at least, as good as I can.

I pick up the raincoat that stayed in Forks when I went back to Phoenix, like it would actually rain _there_. I pick up my schedule and messenger bag before heading down the stairs. Slinging the bag around my shoulders, I grab a banana for breakfast on the way.

"See you later, Dad!" I call, picking up my keys. _My keys_. I feel another roll of pleasure run through me.

"Bye, Bells," Charlie responds.

The school is easy enough to find. For one thing, I remember where it is. Second, in Forks, everything is just off the highway. Call me a hick, but that's the way I like it.

The school is a clustered group of buildings with about two or three classes in each small building. The layout is easy enough to understand, and I'd gone to see a play Emmett was in during his ninth grade year, and he'd given me a tour afterward.

I pull into what is clearly the teachers' lot, which means I probably shouldn't park there… But Charlie told me to go to the office to get some forms, so I'll just pop in and be back out, and it won't matter.

I tromp into the office, pausing outside of the door to shake the water off of me. Inside the office is warm and dry. Like Phoenix. Gross. A red-haired woman sits behind a desk. Glasses are perched on her nose, and she's peering down at a paper in front of her. She's clearly absorbed in whatever she's reading, so I don't disturb her just yet.

I examine the office's bulletin board, which has multiple colored fliers tacked all over, each fighting to be on top of each other. A screaming lime green one reads "Sadie Hawkins Dance!" I smile a little. Girls' choice. That means no guy will try to make me go…I hope.

The woman clears her throat.

Abruptly, I turn, stumbling just a little. I feel my face grow hot and know I'm blushing.

"Can I help you?" she asks. She adjusts her purple T-shirt, and waits patiently for me to answer.

"Err…" I start. "My name's Isabella Swan? My dad told me I needed to pick up some papers before school started?" I frown, realizing that what I meant to be statements came out as questions. I hate it when people do that; it's annoying. So of course it would happen to me.

"Oh, right. Here," she says, digging through a drawer. She pulls out a folder. "Return these at the end of the day, all right?" She hands me two sheets of paper. "Get the teachers to sign them. Do you need a map or anything? I can get you one and highlight the best routes."

"Nope, but thanks anyway," I say.

"Sure thing, sweetie. Have a nice day." She returns her gaze to the paper she was reading earlier, and I slip out of the office silently.

Once back in the rain, I smile. Forks High School is no big deal. There are fewer students in the whole school than there were in my junior class back in Phoenix. No problem.

I doubt the courses will be challenging, since I'm already ahead. I glance at my schedule. I have senior English up first. I was skipped up to junior English in my sophomore year, so I would have to take some weird elective next year, like grammar. Ugh.

I walk back over to _my_ truck. I still can't get over that it's mine. I climb in and pull out of the teachers' lot and coast down the parkway until I get to the students' lot. There are more cars now, and my old truck doesn't stick out. I notice a huge red Jeep and a shiny silver Volvo. They're the nicest cars in the lot.

I park the car and turn it off. I take a deep breath before grabbing my messenger bag and opening the door. I jump down and grab my keys, tucking them in my bag. I slam the door of my truck, quickly making sure not to catch any fingers. With an old truck like mine, slamming my fingers in the door would probably mean amputation--from the car, not a doctor.

I look around until I spot the English building, and head in that direction. I'm supposed to go into room…four. I glance at the number plates in front of me and spot the one I'm looking for. I walk carefully over to the door, taking care not to slip on the wet leaves that cover the ground. I push the door open and step inside.

The room is a fluorescent shade of white. I blink and look around for the teacher. I find him sitting behind a desk, and walk over to him. I clear my throat when he doesn't look up right away.

"Huh?" he says, glancing up.

I smile cheerily. "Hi. I'm Bella Swan." I hand him the papers he's supposed to sign.

He squints at them. "Oh. Isabella."

"Bella," I correct him firmly, as he signs the papers.

"Of course," he says absentmindedly. He hands the papers back to me. "You can sit by…Jasper. Jasper, wave so Ms. Swan knows where to sit."

Internally, I'm screaming with joy. Jasper? _Jasper Hale_?

Sure enough, Jasper waves at me from the third row. Naturally, he's just as gorgeous as ever. I don't know if it's the fluorescents, but his dark blue eyes are sparkling brightly. His honey blond hair is longer than I remember, falling just above his eyes.

"Hey, Jazz," I say as I walk towards him, beaming. Before I can even sit down, he pulls me into a tight hug. Instantly I hug him back, clinging to him maybe a tad too tight. But I'm afraid if I don't, I might faint.

He seems surprised that I'm hugging him so tightly, but he quickly responds with his own tighter-than-usual hug. I think I just hit, and passed, cloud nine. Try cloud ninety-nine.

"Hi, Bella! When did you get back in town?" he asks, still hugging me.

"Just yesterday." I can't seem to get rid of the goofy grin that's spread across my face. Jasper can't see it, thankfully. I think all the blood in my body would have hit my face from embarrassment and my head would just spontaneously combust, if he could.

Reluctantly, it seems, he lets go of me, and lets me sit down in the seat next to him. "That's awesome! Emmett will be pumped. Hey, why are you in a senior English class, anyway? Did they mess up your schedule?"

"I skipped sophomore English."

"That's cool. So what are you doing back in town?" he asks, leaning towards me.

For a second his proximity disjoints my thoughts. "Uh…I…" I shake my head to clear it. "Renee got remarried a while back and her husband has to travel a lot. I wanted her to be able to travel with him, so I convinced her to let me move back. Plus, I missed you guys like crazy."

Jasper nods. "That's good. We missed you, too. I'm guessing Renee wasn't exactly euphoric about it, though."

As usual, he's proving that he truly is my _soul mate_. He understands me _and_ my relationship with Mom. I've never met anyone else who has.

Regretfully, I nod. "She's probably panicking, just like she has every other time I've visited Forks. But I know she's happy to be traveling with Phil."

Jasper smiles sympathetically. "I understand. I've heard it can be pretty bad, living with two newlyweds, anyway."

I grimace. "You _really_ don't want to know. It's very relieving to be away from them. Besides that, I hate Phoenix." By now others are gathering around us and listening curiously. Some of them recognize me, but others don't. After all, they're a year above me.

"What's wrong with Phoenix?" Jasper asks, confusion coloring his features.

I think about it. How to explain? Even to my _soul mate_ it's hard to explain my most complex thought processes. "I guess it was just so different. Everything was…brown. There weren't any trees. The city was huge, and the people were rotten. At least, they were where I lived. I don't even know how to explain it, really. It was just so—"

"It wasn't home," he says simply, placing a hand on mine.

I stare at him, my mouth hanging open slightly. Yeesh! He really _was_ my _soul mate_. That single phrase just captured my feelings more clearly than I ever could. "Yeah," I whisper softly. "Exactly."

He smiles and squeezes my hand gently. I don't remember him being this touchy-feely. Has something changed? Not that I mind…

"How come you quit calling? And why didn't you visit us during Christmas?" he asks, suddenly, leaning forward again.

I suck in a breath. It's really unfair for him to affect me this way. I struggle to reorder my thoughts. "Um, Emmett and I ran out of things to talk about. We didn't have enough happening to us in common, and I wasn't exactly in the best mood. You know Emmett. He likes happy people."

Jasper starts to say something, but our teacher, Mr. Mason, stands up; signaling the start of class. Mr. Mason passes out the class set of the novel we're reading for the class, _The Scarlet Letters _by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Like I said earlier, this class will be a breeze. I read this last year in Phoenix.

I read the first chapter again, anyway, just for the kicks. It's such a weird book, though, and so I can't really get into it. Just like last year.

Finally, the bell rings, and Jasper stands. "What's your next class?"

"Government," I say, glancing at my schedule.

"I'll walk you there," he says, grabbing one of my hands and tugging me towards the door.

I feel a burst of happiness. He's walking me to class. This is just _fabulous_. On the way, Jasper updates me on the kids in town. He doesn't drop my hand, to my pleasure.

"You'll sit with us at lunch, right?" he asks.

"Yes. I mean—Oh. Angie already asked me to sit with her," I say, disappointed. No Jasper time at lunch? This completely sucks.

"Invite her to sit with us. Alice and Edward can come if they like, too," he says.

In Phoenix, no one would have noticed whom anyone sat with. It never ceases to amaze me how in Forks, kids practically have the cafeteria layout memorized.

"I'll ask," I promise.

"What do you have after Gov.?" he asks.

"Uh," I say, fishing through my bag for my schedule. "Yearbook. Here." I hand him the schedule.

He smiles, and takes it. "Wow. I didn't know transfers could get in on Yearbook." He examines the schedule carefully. "Sweet. We have gym together."

"Cool," I agree. I'm not actually so sure that it is a good thing, but any class with Jasper is good with me. I can only hope I don't knock him over.

"Well, hey, here's the Government room," Jasper says. He drops my hand, and I think I see a bit of sadness in his face. "I'll pick you up for your next class."

I tilt my head. "What are you, my new personal tour guide?"

He beams. "Yes. I hope you don't object, because your protests will be duly noted, and ignored."

I smile and shake my head. "Bye, Jazz."

He knocks on my forehead. "Bye, Bells."

Government is an easy class, probably since the Phoenix curriculum was ahead of the Forks curriculum. The objective on the board says that we're discussing the Constitution this week, and that a test will be held on Friday. Easy.

When the teacher finishes going over the fifth article, the boy in front of me twists around in his seat. "Hi, Bella."

Instantly, I recognize his blond spiky hair and baby blue eyes. Not to mention that annoyingly puppy doggish look he's giving me. Yeah. That's Mike, all right. "Hello, Mike."

His grin suddenly reaches from ear to ear. I wonder how this is physically possible.

"You remember me!" he says, delighted.

"Hard to forget you, Mikey," says a black boy, leaning over and smacking the back of Mike's head. "Seeing how you stalked her throughout Middle School."

There weren't a lot of black families in Forks last time I was here. I guess this is Tyler. "Tyler, right?" I say.

He smiles. "Yep."

Mike seems a bit put out that I remember Tyler as well. Oh well. Can't make everyone happy. Not that I have the greatest desire to make Mike happy.

The bell rings, and I pick up my bag. "Bye Mike, Tyler." I leave the room, trying to recall where the journalism classroom is.

Mike tags along, talking my ear off. "Do you need help finding your next class? 'Cause I can take you there."

"I've got it covered, Mike. Really."

"Oh, it's no trouble, Bella! I'd love to hel—"

"Bella!"

Instantly, I recognize Jasper's voice. He's leaning against the building, wearing his raincoat and looking like a model.

"Told you I'd be here," he says happily, walking over to me.

I shake my head. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were a stalker."

He beams. "You're not far off, Bella." He takes my hand again and pulls me off in the direction of my next class without even asking me what it is.

"Bella?" Mike calls, sounding like a lost puppy.

I cast a glance over my shoulder, and see him staring mournfully after me. "Bye, Mike."

Jasper frowns. "Do you like him or something? As I recall, you couldn't stand him."

"Ew! No, he still irritates me to no end. Which reminds me, thank you _so_ much for rescuing me."

Jasper grins. "Any time, Bella. I live to please you."

I blush an even deeper red. No need to tell him that just by _living_, he pleases me.

"Did you memorize my schedule or something?" I ask as we reach the journalism room.

He grins, unabashed. "You betcha."

I'm torn between screaming for joy and laughing. I decide on the latter, seeing as he won't think _that's_ creepy. But seriously, _Jasper freaking Hale_ memorized my schedule. Is that a clue that he likes me, too? I hope so.

Thus the desire to scream. I guess it could be considered creepy, but this is my _soul mate_ we're talking about. It's only natural that he'd want to walk me to all my classes.

When I walk into the Yearbook class, I have to stop and stare. Jostens posters and newspapers hang all over the walls and the whiteboard is covered with story ideas for the newspaper. There are notes for the Journalism 1 students scrawled on the other white board: 'One pica equals six points. Seventy-two points equals an inch. Twelve picas equal an inch.' Desks are scattered haphazardly across the room in a semblance of rows. Computers line the walls, giving the room a very cluttered feeling.

I smile. Some things, like a messy journalism department, never change, no matter where you go.

There's a handful of kids in the room, sitting at the computers. They lean forward, close to the computer. Each one bears a small look of frustration. I glance around for the teacher, but I can't find her. Deciding I'll check out what they're doing until she arrives, I lean over the shoulder of an Asian boy. He's got an InDesign CS3 spread open.

"Um, your eye line is messed up," I say softly. "You want it to go straight across the page. Try lowering the dominant photo a pica."

He looks up at me like I've grown a third head. "Who're you?"

"Isabella Swan!" answers a woman before I can respond. She drops her briefcase on the floor and runs over to me. "Thank goodness you're here! How are you with designing layouts?"

"Uh…good?" I say.

"Great! Get yourself to a computer and start creating layouts. Now, each of the photos and stories that go to a spread are all in one folder, so you'll know what needs to go on the page. As you can see, my students aren't the best at design. Eric here," she gestures at the Asian, "writes the best stories you'll ever read. Angie is a close second."

Angie glances up, and seeing me, waves. "Hey, Bella!"

"Alice and Rosalie are the best photographers you'll ever meet," the woman says, continuing in her rant as though Angie hadn't said anything. "But they're all horrible at layout. I know it's probably different from your old school, but this is the way we do it."

I blink. Yeah. It's a lot different at Phoenix. There you were required to come up with a spread completely on your own: layout, photos, and story. Luckily, I was able to keep interviewing at a minimum by covering sports and clubs. "Okay. Can you sign this for me?" I hold out the paper.

She beams. "Get yourself to a computer, chick. I'll get it back to you in a minute. I'm Mrs. Murphy, by the way."

"Bella," I say, and quickly cross the room to sit at a computer. I'm surprised to see that we use PCs here. Back in Phoenix we used Macs. I open an InDesign CS3, and notice a Photoshop icon, along with Windows Vista. Wow. These computers are tricked out. Who needs a Mac with all this junk?

I open a folder and examine the pictures. "Wow," I whisper. The photos are absolutely fantastic.

"Do you like the photos?" Rosalie's voice floats over to me.

"I…yes. They're incredible."

She smiles. "Thanks. When did you get back to Forks?" she asks, sitting down at the computer next to mine.

"Just yesterday," I say, shifting windows to the InDesign. I split the spread into three rows, and use the lower split line as the eye line. The dominant photo is horizontal for this one, so I use the rectangle tool to draw a spot for it, from the bottom of the page to the eye line.

"Emmett will be really happy," Rosalie says. She smiles at me. "He missed you a lot."

I nod. "Jasper said so, too. We have English together." I hold control, and then hit 'D'. A dialogue box pops up, and I choose the dominant photo, and place it into the rectangle. I adjust the photos placement so it fits right. I look up at Rosalie, then.

She hasn't changed much. Her hair is still the same honey blond as Jasper's and her eyes are the same shade of blue, cerulean. Naturally, she's still gorgeous, and I realize she's only wearing eyeliner. Her beauty is completely real. I'm jealous. But she has changed, at least personality wise. Before, she was sort of quiet and standoffish. I'd always assumed she was stuck up, but I realize now she was just shy. It's clear she's still quiet, but not quite as shy. She approached me, after all. She's traded her preppy Abercrombie look for a more punkish Wet Seal look. The skinny jeans and pink plaid jacket suit her.

"You're in senior English?" she says, tilting her head to one side.

"Yeah," I say, unsurprised that she has her twin's schedule memorized. "I skipped sophomore English." I place a vertical picture on the right of the dominant, one pica apart. I make sure the top of the picture doesn't cross the eye line.

"That's cool," she says, watching me design the spread. "I like your hair."

I glance at her, surprised. Her eyes are wide with honesty, and I smile at her. "Thanks. It's not as nice as yours, but I doubt that's possible."

She blushes and looks down. "Thanks, Bella." She looks up, and tentatively brushes her fingers across my hair. "But I mean it. I wish my hair was curly."

Placing one of the pictures in the vertical rectangle, I smile softly. "I like your hair how it is, but it would look amazing curly, too." I draw another vertical rectangle on the other side of the dominant. "Do you go out with Emmett now?" I ask, curious. I know Emmett has liked her since middle school. Doubtless, he would have asked her out by now.

"No," she says, looking down at her hands. "I keep thinking he'll ask me, but he never has."

"Wow," I say, dragging the word into three syllables. I draw text boxes and plug in the story. I draw a text box above the story's three columns, and type in the headline. "He's totally into you. At least, he was the last time I saw him." I pause, and put in the cut lines for the dominant photo and the two vertical ones on either side. Luckily, they were typed into the story with the corresponding photo numbers, so I could copy and paste without worrying. "I mean, you _do_ want him to ask you out, right?"

"Well, yeah," she admits. "But he's never asked. So I'm not really sure how he feels for me anymore."

Her voice has dropped to a whisper, so I lower mine, as well. "That's weird. He was pretty convinced you were _the one_. That's the reason he started lifting weights. Does he still do that?"

"Yeah, and he's freaking _huge_. It'd be scary if I didn't know him so well," she mutters.

I add more pictures and mull over her words. "Have you tried to clue him in to the fact that you like him?"

"Sure," she said, laughing dryly. "But you know Emmett. He can be so dense."

I giggle. "I do seem to recall that factor." All the pictures are in now and have cut lines. I add a .5 point black line around each photo. "There we go," I murmur, and save the file.

"That's impressive," Rosalie says. "I've never seen anyone finish a layout that fast, except for Mrs. Murphy."

I shrug. "You guys did the hard part. The layout is easy."

She just shakes her head. "Maybe _you_ think so. I've never seen one that clean looking, either."

Mrs. Murphy walks up behind us. She hands me my papers. "Let me see whatcha' got, Bella." She looks at it critically, and I wait for her to tell me it isn't what she's looking for. "Bella Swan, you are amazing. Keep up the good work."

I feel myself sag with relief. She likes it. I open a new folder, closing the earlier window and opening a new InDesign.

"Man," Rosalie chuckles. "I think you just got promoted to being Mrs. Murphy's new favorite student."

I smile despite myself. "That will do wonders for the rep," I say sarcastically.

Rosalie giggles. "Don't worry. There's no better teacher to suck-up to. Everyone loves Mrs. Murphy."

"Hey! I'm not sucking-up," I say defensively. I smile, though, to let her know I'm not really upset at her accusation, if you can call it that.

"You're sitting with us at lunch, right?" Rosalie asks. "You can call me Rose, by the way."

"Yeah. Jasper invited me, too." I pause. "He said it's okay if I invite Angie, since she asked me to sit with her already." I twist in my chair to face Angela. "Hey, Angie?"

"What's up?" she replies quickly, swiveling to face me. "Not backing out of my invite, are you?"

Wow, she must have rabbit ears. We weren't even talking that loud. "Of course not! I was going to invite you to sit with me at Rose's table."

Angie grins, but then hesitates. "Is that cool, Rose?"

Rose nods. "Jasper invited you, too."

"Oh. Okay. Yeah, I'll sit with you," she says, smiling. She looks at Alice, sitting at the computer next to hers. "Alice? Do you and Edward want—"

"I'll ask. Probably not. You know how Edward is…especially on Tuesdays." She stands up and walks over to Mrs. Murphy. "Can I go shoot some pictures?"

"Grab yourself a pass," Mrs. Murphy mumbles.

I frown. I can't remember Alice ever cutting anyone off. She's just as quiet as ever, but clearly, something has changed for her, too. And what's so strange about Edward? He seemed normal enough at the diner.

Angie shoots an apologetic look at me. I shrug, and turn back to my computer. Better get cracking.

When the bell rings, Mrs. Murphy catches me at the door. "Can you, by any chance, stay after school, Bella? Our deadline is Friday, and you're the best designer we have right now."

"Uh, sure. How many spreads do we need to turn in?"

"Fifty," she says bluntly.

I let out a low whistle. That's a lot. "How many do we have done?"

She hesitated. "The only acceptable ones we have are the five you did, today."

I nod carefully. "Yeah. I can stay everyday and get it done, if you want."

She beams. "That would be amazing, Bella. See you after school!"

"Sure." I step out of the warm building and into the rain. I can't help but smile as the rain hits my skin. I pull my hood up, though; to make sure the rain doesn't disturb my hair. Like I said before, I'm normally not so concerned about the way my hair looks, but this _is_ the first day of school for me. I'd like to keep it as nice as I can.

Jasper suddenly appears next to me. "Hey, Bella!"

I blink. "Are you going to keep doing that?"

"What?" he asks innocently.

"Popping out of nowhere."

He laughs, but doesn't answer. "Let's go. Calculus, right? I think Emmett has it with you."

"Really? Sweet!"

Jasper smiles. "So how was Rose?"

"Really nice and a lot different. And her photography is amazing. I guess I was pretty decent at photography last year, but, wow. She really captures amazing things."

Jasper smiled ruefully. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Out of curiosity, how did Emmett manage to get into Calculus?" I ask.

Jasper bursts out laughing. "Don't let him hear you say that. He's pretty touchy on the subject of his intellect. But Rose started tutoring him in math during ninth grade. He got pretty good at it. She still helps him with it, though."

I nod. "He hasn't asked her out yet?" I say suddenly.

"Oh. You heard about that, huh? Well, when it comes to Rose, Emmett totally loses all self-confidence. He's way too scared to ask her out."

Huh. I mull that over. Rose is beautiful, so I guess that might seem intimidating, but she seems so sweet and open. I can't imagine being afraid of her. "That's…crazy," I say finally.

"Why do you say that?" Jasper asks.

"Emmett's never been afraid of anything, as long as I can remember. And we've done some pretty stupid stuff."

Jasper looks down at me. "Is it so hard to believe that we're scared?"

"'We're'?" I question.

"Yeah, me too. When you're in love with the most perfect girl you could ever imagine, it's hard to believe that you're good enough for her. It's hard to believe she'd ever possibly agree." He stares at me as he says this, his eyes burning.

I realize we've stopped. I'm leaning against a wall, and Jasper is close. _Very_ close. If I wanted, I could close the distance between us and kiss him. Which I do, but it wouldn't be conducive to our strictly-friends relationship. "I disagree," I say softly. "I'm not sure there's a girl good enough for you."

"There is," he insists, leaning closer to me. "She just doesn't know it yet."

"I doubt it," I say, but suddenly, jealousy sparks in me. This is my _soul mate_ we're talking about, after all. "Who is she? Do I know her?" I ask accusingly.

"Very well," he says, with a bit of laughter in his eyes. "Better than you know anyone else. Better than anyone else knows her."

I frown, thoroughly confused. "Jasper, who is she?"

"Why do you want to know?" he taunts.

I feel like screaming "BECAUSE YOU'RE MY _SOUL MATE_!!", but I manage to hold my tongue. My mouth hardens into a tight line instead.

"I'll prove it to you, Bella."

"What?" I ask shortly.

"I'll prove she's too good for me. Right now." He steps closer to me, so that our toes are touching. He leans over me, his hands on either side of me. "Bella Swan. Will you go out with me?"

My mouth pops open, and I'm stunned into silence.

Jasper's face closes at my silence. He leans back. "See?" He starts to turn away. "Come on, Bella. Let's go to calculus," he says with false enthusiasm.

"Jasper," I choke out, grabbing his hand. "Did you seriously just ask me out?"

"Yes, Bella. Okay? Yes," he says, clearly frustrated. He tugs me along the hallway. "Let's just go, okay?"

"Yes."

He stops short. "What?"

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! I will go out with you," I say, pulling him into a hug.

He's frozen with shock, not hugging me back. "Seriously?" he gasps.

"_Yes_," I say, rolling my eyes.

He hugs me back, and leans into me.

The bell rings, and I wince. "Late on the first day," I mutter. It can't kill my euphoric mood, though. Jasper just asked me out. I just said yes. Jasper Hale is my freaking boyfriend.

Oh. My. Gosh.

"Yeah," he says, leaning back. "We should probably go…" He pulls me at a steady run towards the math building. Before letting go of my hand, he leans down and kisses my cheek. "Bye, Bella."

I giggle. "Bye, Jazz." I watch him lope off in the direction of his next class before turning to the door with a grimace. I'm not sure how the teacher will react to this. I try the door quietly. It's unlocked. Carefully, I open the door and step inside.

Heads flash around to look at me. My cheeks burn when a huge, muscular guy yells out my name. Halfheartedly, I wave, and then drop my head to observe the interesting pattern in the carpet.

"Ah, Ms. Swan. You've decided to join us," says the teacher, standing at the front of the room. His hand, holding a marker, pauses from writing the equation on the board. "Please, take a seat."

"Um, sorry," I mutter, turning red. "I, uh, got lost."

"Of course," the teacher says with false sympathy. "Do you have something I need to sign?" he asks, gesturing at the papers in my hand.

"Uh, yeah," I say, crossing the room to hand him the paper.

He takes the paper and pulls a pen out of his pocket. He signs it with a flourish. "Take a seat, Isabella."

"Thanks. And its Bella," I mutter, taking the paper back and sitting in the closest empty seat. Casually, I glance at my neighbor's textbook, _Derivatives as functions_. I breathe out a sigh of relief. At least I recognize the term.

After class ends, the huge guy who yelled my name earlier bounds up to me and sits in the desk next to mine. "Bella! You didn't tell me you were back in town!"

I gape at him for several seconds, before squeaking, "Hi."

He threw his head back and laughed. "People seem to have that reaction around me a lot," he says, still chortling. "But of course you remember me, right, Clumsy?"

"Oh," I breathe, suddenly understanding. "Emmett."

He laughs again, and ruffles my hair. "Very articulate, Bella." He stands. "Let's go eat!"

I smile. Despite his appearance, it's clear that Emmett is still the same goofy guy. I gather my things quickly and try to catch up with him.

As I step outside, Jasper catches me around the waist, pulling my back against his chest. "Hi, Bella," he murmurs, face in my hair.

Emmett stops and turns to stare at us. "And when did _this_ happen?" he demands.

"Um," I say, trying to gather my thoughts. It's not easy when one of the most beautiful people on earth is holding you so closely, especially when that person is your _soul mate_. "Before last period."

"Oh, so _that's_ why you were late. Making out in closets, now?" Emmett teases.

My face burns bright red. Not yet, I think.

"Shut up, Emmett," Jasper says, releasing me, but taking my hand again. "As I recall, you still haven't had the guts to ask my sister out…"

Emmett frowns. "Dude! You _had_ to burn me about _that_ in front of Bella?"

I smile ruefully. "Rose already told me."

Someone coughs behind us. Emmett turns bright red. "Uh…hi, Rose."

"Hello, Em," Rose says softly. She comes to stand beside me, and touches my shoulder. "Are you with Jazz?"

I nod.

"That's good to know," she remarks off-handedly. "I've heard lots of guys, like Mike Newton, for example, discussing exactly how they're going to convince you to ask them to the Sadie Hawkins."

"Seriously?" I ask. "That's weird." Then again, this is Mike we're talking about. I wouldn't put it past him.

She shrugs. "You don't see yourself very clearly, Bella. C'mon. Let's go grab some chow." She links her arm with mine and pulls me onward.

In the cafeteria, Angie waves at me from where she's sitting with Alice and Edward.

I wave back as I go to stand in line.

Rose doesn't say much as she puts together her salad, but as we're walking back, she leans over and whispers in my ear. "Edward is looking at you. Have you had any classes with him yet?"

I shake my head and glance at him. He _is_ looking at me, clearly curious. I guess he's just as intrigued as everyone else is by the whole 'new girl' thing. "I'm gonna take a detour, kay? I'll be over in a minute."

Rose nods and keeps walking towards a table in the corner.

I pause at the table where Angie is sitting with Alice and Edward. "Hey, Angie. Are you going to come sit with us?" I ask hesitantly. I glance at Alice and Edward. "You can come, too, if you want."

Edward looks up to meet my gaze. Shock colors his face briefly, but it's quickly replaced by anger. His jaw clenches, and he looks away from me. Alice strokes his face gently, and whispers words in his ear. He relaxes slightly, but doesn't look at me again.

"No, thank you," Alice says, her voice like a tinkling bell. She brushes her shoulder-length hair out of her hazel eyes, and looks at me curiously. Almost absentmindedly, she takes one of Edward's clenched fists and pries it open. She strokes it gently. "You don't have to stay and mope with us, Angie. Go have fun."

Angie stands and picks up her food, but pauses before walking away with me. "Are you sure?"

Alice nods. "Yes. I'll talk to you later, Bella." Her voice is confident, like she's promising me that we'll speak, rather than saying a casual goodbye.

Confused by her strange behavior, I merely smile. "Okay, Alice."

Edward makes a strange sound, something halfway between a growl and a hiss. He relaxes as Alice strokes his hand again, ever so gentle.

And I thought _Alice_ was behaving strangely. I didn't understand Edward's reaction to me. Why was he angry? What had I done to deserve this from him?

Something Alice had said about him in the journalism room floated back to me. "You know how Edward is…especially on Tuesdays." What's wrong with Tuesdays? What's wrong with Edward? More importantly, why is he all pissy at me when I didn't even _do_ anything to him? Other than invite him to eat lunch with us, of course, but that hardly merits his strange anger.

Frowning and shaking my head, I turn away from the table, Angie walking beside me.

"Does Edward generally react like that?" I ask, troubled.

She glances at me tentatively. "Not specifically."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" I ask, perturbed now.

"Not specifically, meaning that he often looks up and makes assumptions about people, generally from their eyes. Normally, his assumptions are right; he's really good at reading people." She pauses. "I don't know why he'd have that sort of reaction towards you, though."

"Yeah," I mumble. "Me either."

When we get to the table, I sigh and sit next to Jasper.

He smiles at me and, noticing my confused and somewhat angry attitude, takes my hand, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on the back of it.

Like Edward when Alice caressed his hands, I relax instantly.

"Ooh, Bella," Angie says, leaning over and whispering in my ear. "Are you and Jasper…_together_?"

Flushing, I nod.

"That's awesome!" she squeals. "Mike will be disappointed, though."

"Good. He's annoying."

"Oh, I like your shirt Bella. I love Muse," Rose says suddenly.

"Oh, thanks. What's your favorite song?" I ask, curiously.

"'Endlessly'," she says promptly. "I know most people like Supermassive Black Hole, since it was in that movie. But I've always loved the Absolution album. Jasper likes 'Stockholm Syndrome'."

"Me, too! Absolution is amazing," I exclaim, leaning forward and grinning.

Rose nods. "That's one of my favorite albums, too. I like Origin of Symmetry, as well. What about you? What's your favorite song?" she asks, curiously.

I smile. "'Plug in Baby'. Or 'Time is Running Out'. Both of those songs are really good." I proceed to explain exactly what it is that I love about the two songs. In general, Rose agrees with me, and then gives a more in-depth explanation for her love of 'Endlessly'. "Have you seen them live?" she asks.

"No, but that would be incredible," I say cheerfully. There are a few things I absolutely _love_ to talk about: music, and more specifically, bands and songs I like, is one of those things. I get very, very excited when I talk about them.

Rose hesitates. "Huh. I'm going to see them in Seattle on February 21st," she comments.

"Seriously?" I reply. "That's awesome."

"Very," she agrees.

"Sorry to bail out on you, Bella," Angie says, standing suddenly. "But Ben asked me to help him with something earlier. See you later, kay?"

"Bye, Angie," I call after her. My eyes unintentionally fall on Edward, and I see him glaring at me. I frown. Why is he so pissed?

Rose sees my gaze. "Hey, don't worry Bella," she says softly. "Edward has his boy periods on Tuesdays."

"Boy periods?" I repeat, raising an eyebrow.

She raised her hands as if to prove her innocence. "Don't look at me. Emmett said it first."

I glance at Emmett.

He's snapped out of his Rose-induced coma. He laughs at my disbelieving face. "Do you have a better name for it? Obviously he's not having an actual period—"

I smack my forehead and slide my hands down to cover my eyes. He can't be serious.

Emmett plunges on as though I've had no reaction. "—But he's pissed off just like a PMSing girl. So yes, he's having his 'boy period'. He's just having it a lot more often than you have yours, not that you have boy periods. But you get the idea."

I sigh. I resist the urge to tell Emmett my real opinion of 'boy periods'. "Emmett, I'm going to take this opportunity to tell you that I love you. No matter how stupid you may or may not sound at any given time." I pause and glance at Jasper. "But I love Jasper more. He sounds intelligent most of the time."

Rose giggles as Jasper wraps his arms around me and kisses my forehead. "I love you more," he informs me.

"Impossible," I scoff.

"You compare a single tree to the forest," he shoots back.

"Then its General Sherman, the biggest tree in the world," I inform him. "That's got over 100 feet in circumference, you know."

"Then it's like comparing the Moon to the Sun."

I roll my eyes. "Everyone knows the Moon is prettier than the Sun, Jazz."

"Clearly," he murmurs. "My beauty could never compare to yours."

I blush and press my face into Jasper's chest. My heart is thumping wildly. He's going to put me into cardiac arrest one of these days.

Emmett wolf whistles.

"Shut up and moon over Rose, Em," Jasper snaps, running his fingers through my hair.

Both Rose and Emmett blush deeply. Emmett tries to distract me from laughing at him, and says, "Seriously, though, Bella. Edward and Tuesdays aren't a good mix. It's not a joke. He's got a good reason to hate Tuesdays. But it's not my business to tell you what it is."

I nod, utterly content in this position. To me, it's not strange that we're already telling each other we love each other. I've loved him since sixth grade. And anyway, he is my _soul mate_. Of course I love him, and he loves me. So it doesn't bother me that we're rushing into things.

Really. It doesn't. I promise.

* * *

A/N: I'll keep it short; I know these can be annoying.

I want to apologize for Jasper. He stole Edward's line about the tree and the forest… Well, it was necessary.

If you're wondering, this isn't JasperxBella…Those are awkward, in my opinion. As you can see, Bella's already questioning some things, even though she's still convinced he's her s_oul mate_.

Also, it really annoys me that every one loves Supermassive Black Hole because it was in Twilight. I mean, it's a good song, but it's not their best song. Seriously. Of course, I love every song by Muse, so maybe I'm not the best person to ask. But I don't think people should like Muse because it's in Twilight. I learned about Muse from Stephenie Meyer, but I love them for the music. That's how it should be. (Okay, done ranting. :)


	4. Desire

Disclaimer: Um…Nope. I can honestly promise that I don't own Twilight. I also don't own Guitar Hero, Rock Band, Best Buy, Volvos, Jeeps, Debussy or Clair de Lune (which is probably in the Public Domain, but I don't own it anyway), Jared Leto (I _wish_) or 30 Seconds to Mars, Jackson Rathbone, Mitsubishi or the Eclipse (I want one), Home and Garden, Extreme Makeover: Home Edition,PS3, The Guess Who, Muse, Michael Jackson, Chevrolet, Cheerios or their off-brand brethren, Caller ID, or the 'Beef! It's what's for dinner' commercials.

Thanks to my awesome betas, Ze Yellow Dahlia and Delcesca Newby! You rock. :)

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Desire**

* * *

After the bell rings, Jasper walks me to my physics class. He kisses my cheek before he leaves, and promises to be here after class.

"How do you get to my classes so quickly?" I ask.

He shrugs. "That's for me to know, Bella. Figure it out if you must." He winks. "Bye, bye."

I walk into the classroom carefully and look around the room. The class is full of seniors that I don't recognize mostly, but I see Edward, too. Remembering his antagonism towards me at lunch, I tentatively smile at him.

He glares at me.

I frown and resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him. Then, I think about it. What the heck? I didn't do anything to him. I have a right to retaliate. I stick my tongue out.

He looks shocked. His mouth twitches, and he grins crookedly. Abruptly, the smile is gone, and he's sulking again.

That was very satisfying.

I walk over to the teacher, Mr. Banner I think is his name. "I'm Bella Swan, the new student." I hand him the form he's supposed to sign.

"Oh, right," he says. After signing the form, he tells me to sit by Edward.

I take the form and walk carefully to Edward's table. I watch the floor, making sure not to trip on anyone's backpack strap. I sit down next to Edward and put my bag on the floor. I slide my jacket off, careful not to drip water on anything. I get up to hang my jacket on a rack at the back of the room, all the while watching where I place my feet.

Edward glares at me when I sit down.

I glare back. What is his problem?

He seems a bit surprised that I glared back. Guess he's not used to people actually having backbones. Not that it's surprising, considering the reaction he must get from most girls. After all, he is gorgeous, what with those haunting green eyes, that messy bronze hair…not to mention his overall sexy physique…

I slap myself. Jasper. JASPER. You love Jasper, I tell myself. _Not Edward_. So stop ogling…

Speaking of Edward, he was looking at me like I was crazy, yet somehow managing to make his anger with me clear.

What a creeper.

What a _hot_ creeper… I groan. I have got to snap out of it.

"Bella?" Mr. Banner is standing in front of me. "You had physics back in Phoenix, correct?"

Wordlessly, I nod.

"Where were you in the curriculum?"

"Dark matter," I say.

His eyes widen in surprise. "Already? Okay. Good. You shouldn't be behind." He laughs. "In fact, you'll be ahead."

I smile at him, and nod. I've been in this position all day. No need to put him in a bad mood by telling him that, though.

I glance over at Edward curiously. He's sitting as far away from me as is possible at the small table and clenching a fist tightly, his hand resting near his knee. He's got nothing on Emmett in the muscle department, but clearly he's not scrawny. I wonder if he ever picks up weights with Emmett.

Speaking of Emmett, I wonder why Edward doesn't sit with him. After all, they are brothers, adoptive or not. You'd think they'd be closer, living together and all.

Thinking back to lunch, when he was so antagonistic towards the idea of sitting with Emmett and the others, it's clear he's not too close to them, or maybe he was just upset by the idea of sitting with me. But if that were the case, wouldn't he have been sitting with them already? Maybe this had something to do with Tuesdays, and he'd be sitting with them tomorrow, glaring at me as usual.

But no, Angie always sits with Alice and Edward. She sounded surprised about the invitation to sit with Rose. So that can't be it. Edward and Emmett must not be close.

Mr. Banner passes out papers, and I mentally berate myself for thinking about Edward when I should have been paying attention. Not that I really have to worry about it, but the idea that I was thinking about Edward is annoying.

I take the worksheet Mr. Banner offers. I glance over it, and sigh in relief. It's a review of all of the formulas we're supposed to have covered. Easy. The only downside is that we have to show all of our work.

Shrugging off my annoyance, I start working. The first word problem is a simple acceleration equation. No biggie. I work through the problems carefully, and check my work when I finish. Even if I have friends again, I want my grades to stay perfect. I'm not asking to be valedictorian or anything. I just want to get that scholarship.

I get up to hand in my paper.

Mr. Banner looks up at me in surprise. "You're finished?"

Clearly, I think to myself. But I only smile and nod. After all, I'm going to need references, and Mr. Banner needs to like me for that.

Edward reaches over me to hand Mr. Banner the worksheet.

I jump. I didn't hear him come up behind me. Shaking my head, I return to my seat. Edward is already sitting down, his head cradled in his hands. I take my seat next to him silently.

As others finish their papers, they start talking quietly among themselves. Edward is silent. Is he giving me the silent treatment? I laugh softly. Honestly, I've ignored my mother for weeks on end. Silence doesn't bother me.

Edward looks at me strangely. When he sees me observing him, he glares.

_Someone_ needs to lighten up.

The bell rings, and Edward practically flies out of the room. Rolling my eyes, I pick up my bag and stand to go to my next class, chemistry. It's in the same building, but Jasper will probably insist on walking me there.

I freeze, realizing that I've thought more about Edward than I've thought about Jasper all period. I curse under my breath, quietly enough that Mr. Banner doesn't hear me as he types away at his computer.

I've got to get Edward Cullen out of my system.

I step outside of the classroom and look around for Jasper.

"Boo," he says, grabbing me from behind again.

I jump. "Jazz, you have got to stop doing that! You're going to give me a heart attack; I swear."

I relax into his easy banter. It's easy to forget Edward now that I'm not in his presence. Or maybe it's Jasper's presence helping me forget. _Soul mates_ tend to have that ability.

"Oh, and Emmett wanted to know if you could come over after school. He has the new Guitar Hero."

"The one with the whole band?" I ask, excited. I've never played Guitar Hero, but I used to go into Best Buy in Phoenix and play Rock Band. I didn't get to go that often, but I can play on medium.

"Yep. So you wanna come?" Jasper asks hopefully.

"Yeah, but I gotta stay after school for about an hour to do some work for Yearbook. I'll come over after that."

"Sweet. Here's your class, okay? See you after."

"Bye, Jazz," I say, hugging him.

He kisses the top of my head. "Bye, Bella."

When I walk into my chemistry class, I have to stop myself from groaning. Of course, _Edward Cullen_ would be in both of my science classes. Why does the world hate me? Screw that. Why does Edward hate me?

After getting my paper signed by the teacher, it turns out, once again, that I'm stuck sitting by the ice cube—I mean, Edward. Just my luck.

Sighing, I sit next to him.

"Open your books to page 277," Mr. Cross says.

I flip open the book Mr. Cross just handed me. Covalent bonds? Oh, man. They are _way_ behind.

Edward swears softly next to me. Curiously I glance at him. He's digging through his bag, looking for something…his book? He groans and closes the bag. Carefully he looks up at me. "Sorry, but I've forgotten my book. Could you share?"

I stare at him. Is he serious?

He groans. "Please?"

I consider telling him no and laughing in his face. I wonder what he would think of me then. I decide to take the higher road and be the mature one, and slide the book across the table so that it's between us.

"Thanks," he mumbles.

I roll my eyes. He has _no_ idea how lucky he is.

As Mr. Cross drones on, I take careful notes, even though I already know about covalent bonds. I focus specifically on them, though, to avoid thinking of the Adonis sitting next to me.

After Mr. Cross finishes his lecture, he gives us some free time. Listlessly, I go over my notes. It does nothing to distract me, so I begin singing Jasper's name in my mind. I picture him in my mind and start tracing a picture of him in the margin of my notes.

Edward shoves the book across the table. The book jars my arm, and a line crosses Jasper's face.

I twist to glare at Edward. "Some gratitude, please? I didn't have to share my book with you."

Instantly, he looks chagrined. "Sorry."

I notice he's not looking me in the eye. I realize that he hasn't been all period. Not that he's blatantly staring at my chest, but he's staring at the space next to my head. I frown, blushing slightly. Edward is weird, and it's discombobulating me…in a good way.

Instantly, I squish that thought. Not allowed! Jasper, Jasper, Jasper. You know, your _soul mate_?

I groan and slam my head on the table. "Ow," I say.

Edward is shaking with silent laughter next to me.

The bell rings, and I don't move. I hear everyone leaving the classroom, and Mr. Cross clearing off the white board. After a minute, someone taps my shoulder.

"Bella?"

I sit up and smack my head against Jasper's torso. He's looking down at me with a rather amused face. I glower.

"Are you ready for gym?" he asks hesitantly.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Come on," he says, sliding an arm through mine. "Don't let Edward get you down, Bella."

"How'd you know it was Edward?" I ask curiously. Not that he knows the real reason I'm pissed at Edward, but I'm not telling him _that_. Honestly, telling your boyfriend/_soul mate_ that you were fantasizing—I mean, _thinking romantically_—about another guy just isn't the best idea. Especially since the other guy isn't even single.

Groan.

"Oh, he ran out of the room looking pissed off. And sort of amused. Did you trip?" he wonders.

"Ha, ha, _no_." Surprisingly. "What are we doing in gym?"

"Volleyball."

I sigh. "Yay. Watch out for my killer spikes. And when I say killer, I don't mean it in a good way, in case you were wondering."

"Don't worry, Bella. I knew exactly what you meant." He nudges me teasingly.

My heart melts. Even though I know he's making fun of me, I realize his statement is true on so _many_ levels. He's always understood me completely. Except for the Edward thing, but I'm not going to let that mess me up. Jasper deserves my complete attention. I refuse to let myself get distracted with Edward Cullen, who probably hates my guts anyway.

With new determination, I rest my head on Jasper's shoulder. "I love you," I say softly.

"Love you, too, Bells."

I smile. Today hasn't gone so bad, after all.

About fifteen minutes later, I'm regretting that thought. Of course I would jinx myself.

When Jasper and I arrived in gym, Edward was already there. I couldn't believe this was happening. How could I get stuck with someone who completely hates me for _all_ of my classes after lunch?

That wasn't the worst part, though. When I stepped out of the locker room, changed into gym shorts and a t-shirt, Mike pounced. He demanded to know what Jasper had that he didn't. He wanted to know if I'd asked Jasper to the dance.

When I told him I hadn't, he cockily asked if I wanted to ask him.

I resisted the urge to slap him, and walked into Jasper's arms (which, in retrospect, wasn't bad at all).

Even _that_ wasn't the worst part, though. Remember that killer spike I mentioned earlier? Well, Edward Cullen was the direct victim of it. He got a bloody nose, and much to my distress, and probably Edward's, too, Coach Clapp told me to take him to the nurse's office.

And that was only the first ten minutes. I spent the next five arguing that the smell of blood made me sick, while Edward tried to catch all the blood dripping from his nose in a tissue.

Of course the coach didn't listen, and off he sent us.

Which brings me to now. I'm sitting with my head between my knees in the nurse's office while Edward gets his nose fixed up. My breathing is irregular and my heart is thumping wildly. I feel nauseous.

Blood has always affected me like this. On days when I have my period, I often get really sick and can't go to school. That's horrible because putting my head between my knees definitely_ does not_ help.

I grimace. How will I tell Dad that I have to miss at least two days of school every twenty-eight days? _That_ will be awkward.

"Ready to go back to class, Bella?" Edward asks, somewhat angrily. I can't even blame him for it this time. I've actually done something to anger him, now. Well, two things, really—arguing with the teacher about why I shouldn't help him definitely counts.

Still, I'm irked. I blame it on the fact that he's been pissing me off all day long. "Can you shut up?" I ask, my head snapping up. "I wasn't arguing with Coach to avoid your _wonderful_ company. I actually do feel really nauseous."

He rolls his eyes. His beautiful, sparkling, sexy eyes—

JASPER! I mentally shriek. I have got to get away from Edward Cullen.

Groaning, I stand up, and press a hand to the wall for support. "Okay, we can try."

"Bella," he says, exasperated, "You don't have to kill yourself." I notice he's got the most beautiful voice. It's smooth like velvet, crooning like music.

"Maybe fresh air will help," I mumble, stumbling out of the nurse's office.

Edward follows me outside, grabbing my arm to prevent me from falling.

I drink in gallons of bloodless air, trying in vain to ignore how nice his hand feels on my arm. He should have let it go by now, but he hasn't. I take in a sharp breath, different than the ones I took earlier. I turn my head and look at him. His eyes are burning with some emotion that I can't identify, but it unnerves me. I drop my gaze.

Almost reluctantly, he drops his hand. He makes it into a fist by his side. "Are you okay, now?" he questions through clenched teeth.

Unable to look at his face again, I whisper. "Yeah."

And that's the worst part. Because no matter how many times I promise myself that I won't, I'll keep finding Edward too attractive for his—and my—own good. I can't figure out how to stop this, except by being with Jasper constantly. Clearly, that's not a foolproof combatant. Case in point? Right now.

I stare at the ground as we walk through the light drizzle back to gym. My legs are getting wet from the knee down, since I'm only wearing gym shorts. Goosebumps rise up on my legs, and I tell myself it's from the cold, _not_ from Edward's presence.

When we arrive in the gym, I slip out of my raincoat and Coach signals for us to get back into the game. Jasper grins at me as I take my spot next to him. I want him to hug me and promise me that everything will be okay. He doesn't know why it wouldn't. I can't tell him. Nothing _can_ be wrong. I have to focus, no matter how hard it is because Edward is easy to forget with Jasper standing next to me. I cling to that fact like I wish I could cling to Jasper.

I'm such a basket case.

After the game, I go into the locker room to change. While I'm pulling my shirt on, a familiar looking girl bounces up to me. "Bella Swan?"

"Yeah," I say, looking at her closely. "Oh. Hey, Jess."

She makes some sort of small talk while I pull on my pants. She asks me how I like Forks, and what Phoenix was like.

"Dry," I deadpan.

She laughs as if that's the funniest thing she's heard all day. She waits until I'm tying my high tops to pounce. "So, Bella? I saw you talking to Mike earlier…"

I grimace. "Unfortunately."

Jess looks relieved. "Oh, okay. So you aren't interested in him?"

"Heck, no," I respond. "I'm going out with Jasper, anyway."

"_Already_?" she gasps, leaning forward.

I wonder if she's trying to insinuate that I'm a slut. Even if she's not, I can't take this right now. "Yeah, and he's probably waiting for me, so I'll see you later." I stand up and dash out the door, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

Running was a big mistake. I slip on water as soon as I step outside.

Jasper helps me to my feet as I dust my knees off. I can't even bring myself to be surprised at his sudden appearance. After a whole day of it, it's not that strange anymore. I hug him tightly, pressing my face into his chest.

"Are you okay, Bella? Should I kill Edward?" he asks, trying to bring levity to the situation.

I let out a bark of strangled laughter. "Maybe." Then I could focus on you, I think to myself.

Sighing, Jasper hugs me tightly. "You worry me. You're coming over today, right?"

I nod against his chest, but don't move myself.

"Well, Emmett is my ride, and if I take too long, he'll leave me…" he hints.

I sigh and step back. I take his hand and begin to pull him along. "I'll walk you to his car."

"I'm worried about you, Bella."

Good. You should be.

"Are you sure this move was the best thing for you?"

Not anymore.

"Not that I want you to leave, of course."

I know. After all, you are my s_oul mate_. It's not your fault that I think some other guy is, err, attractive.

"Bella, are you even listening to me?" Jasper asks, exasperated.

"Of course," I answer, out loud this time.

"But you're not answering me." When I don't answer, again, his voice becomes pleading. "Tell me what you're thinking, please."

"You don't want to hear it," I inform him quietly. And he doesn't. He really doesn't.

After Jasper and Emmett leave in his monster Jeep, I sag. I'm so tired. I turn to begin my trek across campus to the office, and then to the journalism room, and nearly run into Angie.

Laughing, she grabs my shoulders before I can ram into her. "Hi, Bella. Be careful, 'kay?" She doesn't wait for my response and slides into the backseat of a silver Volvo. Alice slides into the front seat.

Edward stands with the driver's door opened. His gaze meets mine firmly and anger flashes over his features again. He abruptly gets into the car and slams his door. He backs out of his parking space quickly.

I jump back, nearly getting nailed by his back bumper. Is he _trying_ to kill me?

"Edward!" I hear Alice screech.

Angrily, I spin around again. Muttering under my breath, I storm across campus until I get to the office. I hand in the forms I'd gotten signed, and leave in a huff. When I reach the journalism room, I stop outside the door. Before I go in, I pull one of my worry rocks out of my pocket and rub my thumb against it. "I am calm," I tell myself. "I am the moon. I float across the sky, and I don't have to worry about _anything_."

I feel myself relax. I never would have expected that to work, if Renee hadn't taught me to do that nearly a year and a half ago. That was during her yoga phase, and some of it is surprisingly helpful.

Sufficiently calm now, I step inside the cluttered room.

"Hi, Bella," Mrs. Murphy chirps. "Did I mention that the spreads you turned in are _gold_?"

I flush. Okay, so today wasn't horrible. At least Yearbook is going well. "Thanks," I mumble. I sit down, eager to get to work. Designing has always been my favorite part of Yearbook. After completing my second spread, I open up the third folder, and staring at me in one of the picture thumbnails is a smiling picture of Alice and Edward.

My hand freezes on the mouse. Edward is even more beautiful with a crooked grin on his face. Life is very unfair.

I close my eyes and hum a song, "Clair de Lune" by Claude Debussy. Anything to clear my head.

With a sigh, I open a new InDesign spread. I go through the motions of creating the spread and put in all of the pictures, until I get to the Edward and Alice one. Unable to put it in just yet, I insert the story and the captions. When no more woolgathering can be done, I insert the picture and adjust it as carefully as I dare. When it looks okay, I save the spread and close the layout.

When his face is no longer looking at me, even from a computer screen, I can relax. Sighing, I open the next folder and start working. The rest of the hour remains blissfully Edward-free.

When I finish my fifth spread, I stand up. "I'm heading out, now, Mrs. Murphy."

"Thank you so much for doing this, Bella. I really appreciate it," she says sincerely.

"It's no problem. I'll see you tomorrow," I reassure her.

As I walk back across campus, twirling my keys in my finger, I think about Edward and Jasper.

Edward has to be the most beautiful person I've ever met—seen, really. I'd always thought Jared Leto from 30 Seconds to Mars was really hot, beautiful, even. But Edward is impossibly more beautiful, like he really is Adonis, the perfect match for Venus, which makes him an impossible match for me. But his personality was annoying. I'm sure he has a reason to hate Tuesdays. Heck, he probably has a reason to hate me. Whether it's good or not is another matter, but that's not important. For whatever reason, Edward hates me, it's no excuse to not even give me a chance to be his friend. Not that friendship is really what my body has in mind…

Jasper isn't ugly; he's gorgeous, really. He sort of reminds me of a blond Jackson Rathbone, who really is adorable. And it's not like there's no attraction, at least on my part. How he could be attracted to plain old me…well, I'm not delving into that. But it's not just on a physical plane that I'm in love with Jasper. I love the way he thinks. I love when he's happy. I love playing basketball with him, even though I trip over my own feet. I love…him.

So what if I want to jump Edward Cullen? My body wants him, but Jasper is my heart's desire.

I just have to remember that.

* * *

I pull into the Cullens' very long driveway and park behind Esme's cute little car, a Mitsubishi Eclipse. I feel very out of place in my very, very old Chevy, but I brush off the discomfort. Esme doesn't like to make people uncomfortable, so I avoid cluing her into this fact. Mostly with success, but some envy can't be hidden.

I walk up the rest of the driveway and across the lawn, taking care not to step off of the sidewalk and onto the too-green grass. I wonder if they paint the grass. It's really not possible for grass to be that green. Is anything supposed to be that green? I know this is Forks, but seriously.

When I get to the door, I knock hesitantly. Back in eighth grade, Esme had insisted that I just come in, but I'm not sure if she's come to her sense yet and realized that isn't safe. I kind of hope she has, but it would be nice if she still trusts me enough to let me just waltz in. Plus, it takes forever for them to answer the door.

About a minute later, Rose answers the door. "Hey, Bella. Esme said to tell you to just come in."

"Where is Esme?" I ask, smiling softly.

"She's in her study. Emmett and Jasper are in the game room."

"Where are you?" I tease.

She smiles and gestures behind her. "I'm in the computer room. I've got to finish my report for psych."

Huh. I didn't expect an actual answer. Well, whatever. "Thanks, Rose."

"Mmhmm," she mumbles, returning to the computer room.

The Cullens are disturbingly rich, or, as Esme likes to say, _well-off_. 'Well-off', my butt. They have a huge game room with a pool table, all the latest video game consoles and a huge plasma screen TV. There's a music room with every kind of guitar you could imagine—bass, electric, acoustic, twelve-string, the whole flipping nine yards, and of course their grand piano. Esme plays piano, I guess, but not frequently. Certainly not enough to own a freaking grand piano. Well-off people don't own grand pianos and play them every once in awhile.

But back to the layout of the house. Both Carlisle and Esme have their own personal studies. Carlisle's is stuffed with medical journals, magazines, and huge theory books. Esme has a room filled with fabrics, carpet patterns, and photographs. She's an interior designer, and has been featured in Home and Garden magazine. They wanted her to do a TV show on their network, or at least join the crew of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Yeah, Esme is incredible. She deserves her wealth. Excuse me, her well-off-ness, if that's even a word.

Then there's the computer room. It goes for all purposes, from homework to World of Warcraft. Last time I was here, there were three computers and a laptop, a photo printer, a laser printer, and a scanner, and the computers were just as tricked out as the journalism department ones at school.

Yeah. That was the layout of the house two and a half years ago. Who knows what it looks like now?

And Esme thinks she's _only _well-off? She's delusional.

Even so, I love her to pieces. She sort of reminds me of my mother, in that she's so innocent. She doesn't like to flaunt her wealth and loves donating to charities. She does like to shower people with gifts, but she spaces it out, so it's not really obvious.

So even though she's filthy rich—okay, so it's impossible to describe Esme as 'filthy'—it's impossible not to love her. It's impossible to be jealous of her… Okay, it's very possible. But I still love her.

I walk up the stairs and knock on the door to her study.

"Come in," she calls.

I open the door carefully and step inside. Gently I close the door. "Hello, Esme."

"Oh, Bella! Emmett was so happy you moved back into town!" Esme says, crossing the room and pulling me in for a hug.

Esme is sort of tall, with her height being 5'9". She's slender and has beautiful dark brown hair with caramel highlights. It falls a bit past her shoulder blades and curls absolutely gorgeously. She has an open, heart-shaped face with chocolate brown eyes. Unlike the rest of us here in Forks, she has tan skin. Her father is from Mexico and her grandmother from China, giving her cinnamon-colored skin, and almond-shaped eyes.

Hm. The only way I seem to be able to describe Esme makes her sound like an ice cream topping. Caramel, chocolate, cinnamon, _and_ almonds? Well, she is just that sweet…

Ugh. Now I'm being corny.

"Yeah, I was really happy, too," I say, my voice muffled against her shoulder. Esme is _still_ hugging me. I swear she wants to be everyone's mom. Not that I mind.

She leans back and holds me at an arms length. "Oh, Bella," she gushes. "You're even more beautiful than I recall. Your hair looks lovely like this, by the way. Do you style it this way often?"

"Err, no," I say, embarrassed. No need to tell her that, in general, I 'style' it in a ponytail. "Thank you, though."

"Oh, you should style it this way all the time." She brushes her fingers across my warm and blushing cheeks. "And the blush is lovely on you…"

The door bursts open. "Esme, I can't find my—what are _you_ doing here?"

I flinch. Edward. I don't bother turning to look at him; I know what I'll see. He's glaring at me, and I can almost feel his gaze burning a hole in my head. I wonder if my hair is going to burn off.

"Edward!" Esme gasps, shocked.

I clear my throat. "Um, it was nice to see you again, Esme. I'll just go see Emmett, now." I push past Edward, murmuring. "Excuse me." I walk in the general direction of the game room, but pause in the bathroom before I get there. I close the door behind me and slide down to the floor.

I have to breathe. I have to be the moon. I have to float. I have to release my inhibitions…oh, who am I kidding? All I want to do is not cry. My anger seems to bring about the unfortunate circumstance of crocodile tears.

I hear Esme yelling at Edward. "How could you say that? Bella has been like a daughter to me, and she's Emmett's best friend!"

I hear him reply to her in a normal voice, but can only hear the rumble of his voice, and can't distinguish any words.

"Oh, Edward," Esme sighs. "I know it's Tuesday, but that's no reason to take it out on Bella."

Edward's rumbling voice becomes defensive.

Fairly certain I'm not going to cry, I get up and open the bathroom door. Edward is leaving Esme's study. Awkwardly, I close the bathroom door and continue my walk down the hallway, doing my best to ignore him. After a second of hesitation, Edward heads in the same direction, but goes up the stairs while I stay on the ground floor.

When I enter the game room, Emmett and Jasper are playing The Kill by 30 Seconds to Mars. Jasper's on the drums and Emmett's jamming with the guitar. It's really funny, actually, to see someone so huge holding the small guitar controller. Not that it's smaller than a normal Guitar Hero controller, but compared to a real guitar, it's tiny. Compared to Emmett, it's microscopic. Okay, so I might be exaggerating a little, but not by much.

I stay silent until the song ends. With Jared Leto's sexy voice still ringing from the speakers, I burst into applause.

Alerted to my presence, Emmett practically leaps across the room, wrapping me in a huge bear hug. The controller is pressing into me uncomfortably. I frown.

Jasper elbows between us. "Hey, that's _my_ girlfriend. Back off." He wraps his arms around me, and I sag into him.

His mere presence calms me to the point that I forget Edward and his (beautiful) angry looks. I can forget his hate, and focus on Jasper and his love for me. I'm so lucky to already know my _soul mate_. Otherwise, I would probably spend most of my time crying and lusting after Edward Cullen.

Oh, the last part…huh, that's already true. I hate life.

Except that Jasper's in it. And Emmett, and Rose, and Angela, and Esme. I love that part of my life, just not the Edward part. Sigh.

"Are you okay?" Jasper asks, kissing my hair. His voice is soothing.

I clutch his shirt tightly in a fist and press my face into the crook of his neck. "No," I sigh.

"Edward?" he guesses.

"Bingo," I admit, though I don't explain why Edward is bothering me. Jasper knows half of it, anyway. And the rest I will never speak of. I will never say _that_ out loud. That's a train wreck waiting to happen.

"Aw, don't worry. He'll get over himself eventually," Jasper soothes.

Emmett glowers. "What? Is my brother still being a bas—"

"Language!" Esme calls as she walks by the room.

"Aw, Mom!" Emmett whines.

"Um, yeah," I say, releasing Jasper's shirt. "But, don't worry about it, okay? I just…want to forget about it." That would really be the optimum choice.

"Are you sure?" Emmett asks. "'Cause I've been watching for a chance to get back at him."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," I say with a sad smile. "Now…do you have another guitar controller?"

"I call lead guitar!" Emmett yells.

"Drums!" Jasper shoots back.

"Um…bass?" I guess.

"Correct!" Emmett says, patting my head gently. He offers me the other guitar controller. "Here ya go!"

"Thanks, Em," I say, taking the offered controller.

They restart the PS3 and plug in my controller. "Have you played before, Bella?" Jasper asks. He's standing behind me, an arm around my waist.

"I've played Rock Band. I used to go to Best Buy on the weekends and play," I murmur, resting my head on Jasper's shoulder.

"That's awesome," Jasper says, squeezing my waist gently. "I wish we had a Best Buy here. I could go play a game somewhere other than here."

"What's wrong with here?" Emmett asks defensively.

"Edward," Jasper and I both answer at the same time.

Emmett burst into laughter. "Gawsh, you two really are perfect for each other. But yeah, I get what you mean. But, hey, it's okay. Edward is just an emo who hangs out in his room all the time. And I have all the games!"

I start to walk over to the shelves where all the games are. Jasper is still latched onto my waist, so I pull him with me. "Wow," I say. "You've got everything but the first Guitar Hero…and I've never actually seen that, sooo…And both Rock Bands…Hey, are the Guitar Hero controllers compatible to the Rock Band game?" I ask curiously. It doesn't really make a difference to me, seeing how I couldn't really ever afford a PS3 or Guitar Hero _and_ Rock Band. But I've always wondered.

"The World Tour guitars are," Jasper murmurs, pressing his lips to my temple.

"Huh. That makes sense," I agree. I hug him gently, inhaling his scent. "You smell good."

He laughs softly. "I'm glad you think so."

Emmett clears his throat, and we turn to see him standing with hands on his hips and watching us sternly. "Okay, love birds. We're here to play a game, not whisper sweet nothings."

"Aw," I whine. "Are you sure? I can call Rose up here, I'm sure she'd be happy to comply…"

Emmett blushes and frowns at me. "Shut up and take the controller, Swan."

"You're going down, Cullen." I strap my controller on.

"Oh, it's on!" Emmett cheers, putting on what I suppose is his 'game face'.

Jasper coughs. "You guys know we're playing co-op, right? It's not a competition."

"Regardless," I snap. "I will kick your butt, Emmett Cullen."

"Bella Swan," Emmett mocks. "I play this game constantly. Can you even play on medium?"

"Of course. I can play on Hard, too," I bluff. Like I said, I play medium. Hard? I've never really tried.

Emmett smirks, apparently seeing through me. "Okay. Then we'll all go on Hard."

"Aw, Emmett," Jasper whines. "Do I _have_ to get dragged in on your little power trip?"

"Yes!" Emmett declares, choosing quick play.

We all choose the hard difficulty level, and I wait, anticipating failure. I should really just tell the truth. Not that I'm ever going to let Emmett best me. I can get around ninety percent with medium, so maybe hard won't be too bad…

Yeah, right.

"Pick your poison, Swan," Emmett teases.

I scan the list. Biting my lip, I choose one of the songs I recognize: "Do it Again" by Steely Dan. Which seems odd, considering my taste in music, but it's a great song. Mom went through a jazz-rock phase for a while, and this song has always stuck with me. I struggle to remember—the guitar line's simple, right? Hopefully the bass line will be, too.

A flash of inspiration comes to me. I flip my hand over, so that my pinky is on the green button, and my thumb is on the orange button. Shouldn't be hard to transition to, right?

Emmett looks at me strangely. "That's weird."

I shrug, suck in a breath and start playing.

Luckily for me, the rhythm is simple enough to pick up. It's fast moving, but not horrible. There is a part where I have to play up and down the five notes rapidly, but other than that, it's fine. And, surprisingly, playing it backwards is easy, once I get the new position down.

When we finish, Emmett looks disappointed. "Dang, Swan. I was hoping…" He shakes his head. "Okay, let's do "Beat It.""

I grimace. "Michael Jackson, Em? Really?"

"He's a classic."

Though this song is repetitive, the rhythm is a bit more complicated than I would have liked. I don't do horribly, though, and Emmett is still very disappointed.

Emmett grins. "Okay, Swan. Seems I've underestimated you. Let's see…How about—"

"My turn!" Jasper yells before Emmett could suggest a song. "Choose, uh, "American Woman" by The Guess Who."

"Goin' down, Swan!" Emmett shouts again. He picks "American Woman," and starts bouncing around in time with the cheering crowd on the screen. Pure dorky Emmett.

I chuckle. "I love you, Emmett. I'll love you more when I kick your butt."

"In your dreams!" he shoots back. He gets in the zone then, strumming up and down for the song.

I focus on my screen and start playing. This one is difficult, but I try my best. When we manage to complete the song, I yell that it's my turn again.

I grin from ear to ear when I see the song "Assassin" by Muse. "Sweet, I _love_ this song." I choose it.

The song starts, and I start strumming up and down, a habit I picked up from Saturday Rock Band sessions. Good thing, too, since strumming both ways makes it a lot easier, especially while the notes are coming so fast.

Jasper is going crazy on the drums, while Emmett and I are rockin' out with the guitars. Sometime while we're playing, Rosalie runs into the room and starts singing along and dancing. She tackles me when we finish.

"I LOVE THAT SONG!" she shrieks, wrapping me in a tight hug.

I laugh and hug her back. "I totally just killed Emmett."

"Indeed, Swan, you are a girl of many talents. And I definitely thought you were lying when you said you could play on hard, but I think you cheated by holding it that way."

"Um, about that…" I hedge. "Yeah, this was the first time I've ever played hard. And it's not cheating. I can't use star power, so it's not as easy."

"Bella, that's annoying," Emmett informs me. "Are you secretly a boy? Girls are supposed to have to work really hard to be good a video games."

Rose socks his arm. "Ha. Ha. You're so funny," she says, holding the 'o' in 'so' out.

"Ow!" Emmett says, rubbing his arm. "Rosie," he whines.

"I wanna play," Rose says, restarting the PS3 and plugging in the microphone. "And you should know we're better than you, Em."

Emmett laughs nervously. "Of course I know that, Rose. I was just teasing Bella." He glances at me. "You're still going down, Swan."

"Right," I say, rolling my eyes. "Of course, Cullen."

"Emmett, please stop threatening my girlfriend. I'm really concerned about your pride and safety," Jasper sighs from behind the drum.

I look over my shoulder and blow him a kiss. "Good to know you have my best interests at heart."

"Any time, Bella, Any time," Jasper says, winking.

* * *

"Aw, dang," I say, glancing at my watch. "I gotta hit the grocery store and make Charlie dinner. See you guys tomorr—"

Jasper cuts me off, kissing me deeply. Emmett catcalls while Rose giggles in the background.

"Oh," I say as he pulls back. "Hi."

He smirks. "Bye, Bella. I love you."

"Love you, too," I murmur, brushing my fingers over my lips. I feel like I'm on fire, burning from his kiss. Or maybe that's just because my cheeks are so hot with blush.

But whatever it is makes my stomach twist pleasurably. I smile and kiss him lightly on the cheek. "Bye, Jasper."

As I step back and leave the room, I say, "Bye, Emmett, bye Rose." On my way to the door, Esme stops me.

"Oh, Bella, will you be back tomorrow?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes," I reply, giving Esme a hug.

"Great! Won't you and Charlie come over for dinner sometime?" she asks hopefully.

"I'll do my best, Esme. Maybe you should call Charlie, though. I'm afraid I don't know his schedule, but I'm sure he'll be happy to come over."

"I'll call tonight. Good bye, darling."

"Bye, Esme," I say, kissing her cheek.

"Oh, and Bella, dear?" Esme calls as I reach the door.

I turn back to look at her. "Yes?"

She smiles at me maternally. "Don't worry about Edward. He'll come around."

I give her my best fake smile. "You got it. But it's okay. I haven't even thought about him in the last hour." It's true, I haven't. Since I started playing Guitar Hero with Emmett and Jasper, he had been the furthest thing from my mind. _Thankfully_.

"Good. I don't want you to stop coming over because of that, all right?"

"Of course not, Esme. You know I'd never let something like that stop me from seeing you and Emmett." That's true, too. I would hate to disappoint Esme, let alone Emmett. Even an angry Edward is better than that, right?

Smiling to myself, I walk to my truck. I feel eyes on me, and I turn back to the house (mansion). One of the curtains on the second floor swings shut. I laugh softly to myself, suddenly nervous. This is just like one of those creepy vampire movies, where the heroine goes into an apparently abandoned house. When she leaves, she feels someone watching her and sees a curtain swing shut. Yeah, I need to lay off the horror movies. Honestly, the Cullen house isn't even abandoned. Sheesh.

I swing my truck door open and slide inside. Cranking the keys in the ignition, I jump at the roar my truck makes. I laugh again, still nervous. Backing out of the driveway, I pull onto the road and head towards the store.

I start humming "Clair de Lune" to myself, and when I get to a stop sign, I reach for my stack of CDs. I'd put them under the passenger seat this morning before school. Still humming to relieve my tension, I put my Debussy CD in the player Charlie had installed when he bought the truck. Instantly, the soothing piano of "Clair de Lune" fills the cab, and I relax. Debussy is my hero.

I pull into the lot at the grocery store and head inside. I pick up some potatoes and steak, browsing the cereal aisle before going to check out. Generic Cheerios in hand, I go to checkout aisle four and stand in line for a few minutes.

When it's my turn, a tinkling voice asks, "Paper or plastic?"

I look up, surprised to see Alice Weber standing there, scanning my items. "Um, paper," I say, running fingers through my hair. "Hi, Alice. I didn't know you worked here."

"Yep, Monday through Thursday, right after school," she says, putting the potatoes and steak in a big brown paper bag. She puts the off-brand Cheerios on top of that and says, "Your total is $19.25."

I hand her a twenty, murmuring, "Keep the change." I pick up my grocery bag and slip out of the store.

Before the door closes, Alice calls. "Bye, Bella. See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Alice." I don't tack on the 'See you tomorrow' bit, since she'll probably be with Edward, and I'm going to be trying to avoid him—key word 'trying'. I have three classes with him. He's pretty unavoidable.

I drive home, letting Debussy and his piano soothe me.

When I pull up to the house, I hear the phone ringing, so I quickly grab the groceries and pull my key out of my pocket. With my hands mostly full, I lock the doors of the truck and rush up the path to the door.

Curse my natural clumsiness. I should have known this would happen. In case you haven't figured it out, I stumbled on the last step, and some of the potatoes went flying into the bush.

Groaning, I pick myself up and walk over to the bush, looking through it until I can find my prized potatoes. I sigh in relief when I find the escaped potatoes and put it back in the bag. I collect the other fallen items, and take a deep breath. I slide the key in the hole and twist it, opening the door. I step inside and put the bag on the table.

I've missed the phone call by now, but I walk over to the phone and go through the Caller ID list. A call from Phil Dwyer is at the top of the list. Must be Mom. I hit the talk button and return to the table, pulling out the steak and potatoes, the phone held between my ear and shoulder.

Mom picks up on the second ring. "BELLA!" she squeals into the phone.

"Hi, Mom," I say, marinating the steak.

"Where were you? I called you earlier and you didn't answer the phone. Oh, Bella, I was so worried! Maybe you should come live with us again."

"Mom, calm down. I was at Emmett's house, and then I had to go to the store."

"Oh, okay. Are you and Emmett best friends again?"

"Yep," I answer, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

"And Jasper…" she trails off suggestively.

"Is my boyfriend," I tell her proudly.

She squeals into the phone, and I hear her bouncing around. I don't blame her—that's what _I_ felt like doing when he asked me. "That's so awesome, Bella. Okay, I take it back. Stay up there."

I laugh. "No problem."

I guess something must have sounded off about my voice because Mom suddenly asks. "What's wrong? Trouble in paradise?"

I groan and stab two of the potatoes with a fork. "Sort of."

"What's up?" she asks, her motherly instincts taking over.

Popping the potatoes into the oven, I think over my answer. Since everything is cooking now, I set a timer and walk into the living room.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to answer?" Mom asks patiently.

"Yeah," I say quickly. "I'm just trying to figure out how to word it." I hesitate. "Okay, so you know Jasper is my _soul mate_, right?"

"Right," Mom agrees, but I hear laughter in her voice.

I ignore it and press on. "I love him, I really do. But, Mom, there's something bugging me."

"Wait, you love him? How long have you been going out?"

"Since fourth period or something. But I've loved him since sixth grade, so it's not like it's too soon…right?"

"Sure, Bella. Go on."

"Well, that's part of the problem. I know I've loved him for forever. But I don't know about Jasper. He's already telling me the same thing, and that kind of scares me. That, and the fact that he asked me out so soon. I guess I'm just worrying needlessly, but…" I trail off.

"No, I understand. Honestly, Bella, I'd be worried, too. But this isn't the main problem, is it?" she asks knowingly.

"No," I sigh. I open my mouth to speak, when Dad opens the door and sees me.

"Hey, Bells! Talking to Renee?"

"Um, yeah." I close my eyes. "Um, Mom? I'll tell you later, okay? I'm still trying to figure it out. I'm not even sure how to say this," I babble. Truthfully, I just don't want Dad to hear anything about a boy and me.

"Oh…Charlie doesn't know, does he?" Mom guesses.

"Yeah. Exactly. Love you, Mom."

"You, too. Bye, Bella."

"Bye."

"Hey, Dad," I say, getting up from the couch. The timer goes off in the kitchen for the potatoes. The steak would be ready soon.

"How was your day?" Dad asks, following me into the kitchen.

I think about it. Edward made it bad, but Yearbook and Jasper made it amazing. "I'm having mixed emotions about it, but I'm going to go with good."

"That's good. Did you see Emmett?"

"Yep, I was at his house until about an hour ago. I went grocery shopping after that."

He looks at the cooking stove with sudden interest. "What's for dinner?"

"Beef!" I quip.

He laughs and rubs the back of his head. "Nice one."

"Steak and potatoes," I say more truthfully.

"Yum," Dad comments. "I'm gonna go catch the game, okay?"

"You got it," I say. "I'll call you for dinner."

* * *

A/N: This was originally two chapters, but then I realized that I'd stretched one day into nearly four chapters...which isn't fly. So sorry if it doesn't gel well. (ha, that rhymes.)  
Explanations: - Bella is attracted to Edward, but she's still in love with Jasper. If that wasn't clear.  
- Mike and Jess probably won't play big roles in this. I'm thinking about adding Tyler, since he felt a little less annoying. Eric will just be some guy on Yearbook with Bella. He'll also be her friend, but not someone who likes Bella.  
- Jackson Rathbone played Jasper in the Twilight movie. You caught me. ;)  
- Jasper stole Edward's line again! Egad!!  
WHOO! Twenty-one pages. Wow. Enjoy!

P. S. TONS of foreshadowing in this chapter…check out the songs. I know 'Beat It' seems odd, but it's there for a purpose. (Just thought I'd mention that the songs aren't there to be fillers. They have purpose.)

Non related A/N: I'm sorry for the erratic updating, but I figure that if you're nice enough to review (Thanks, too both of you!) you'll be nice enough to cut me some slack considering my ridiculous schedule and my poor attention span. :) Check out my blog --Link on profile!-- to get a sneak preview and learn about song choices!


	5. The Chapter Title Doesn't Fit

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Twilight. Also don't own Photoshop, InDesign, Muse, Walmart, Lil' Wayne, T-Pain, Soulja Boy Tell'em, Chicken Alfredo (YUM), the Apple iPhone, iTunes, Tracfone, or Guitar Hero.

Note...My Beta hasn't returned this chapter yet, but I figured you all deserved an update. Or two? Maybe. When she returns it, I'll replace it. Probably. Sorry for the exceptionally long wait! As usual, song and preview are on my blog (link on profile!)

Also, you can apparently only have a certain amount of characters for the chapter title. Thus, the fake one in the bar. Sorry!

* * *

**Chapter 4 - An Overdue Explanation and Further Complications

* * *

**

"So...Bella," Mike says, casually turning around in his seat.

With a sigh, I look up from my Venn diagram about the Civil War. "Yes, Mike?"

"You doing anything tonight?" I've been here about two weeks now, and for some reason, Mike thinks that's enough license to ask me out every time he sees me, even if I say no every time.

"Is that really your business, Mike?" I ask, flipping the page in my U.S. History book. "Because I don't really think it is."

"I guess not," he says slowly. "But, I was wondering if you'd like to go see a movie or something."

"I'm busy," I say shortly.

"Doing what?" he whines.

"I'm going out with Jasper. But even if I wasn't doing that, I'd still tell you no. I have a boyfriend, Mike. I'm not going to cheat on him." Not with Mike, not with Edward. I am strong, and I _will _resist temptation. I've been doing it for a few weeks by now, and I can do it forever if I need to.

"Bella," Mike says sagely, shaking his head. "I think you should play the field. Try out other guys. See what else the world has to offer."

"Well, Mike," I snap back. "You know what they say. 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it.' My relationship with Jasper is quite intact, thank you very much. So no, I think I'll pass."

"But, Bella--"

"Mike, she's just not that into you!" Tyler snapped, smacking Mike on the back of the head. I resist the urge to scream, "Hallelujah, the boy has a mind!"

Mike lunged at him, hitting him back. "You're one to talk!"

Mike and Tyler had a playful friendship. They were always hitting or punching each other, or making snide jokes about one another. But they were also really good friends; I could tell.

I return my attention to my history book. Really, is this class necessary?

* * *

In Yearbook, I groan and rest my head against Rose's shoulder. "Mike is killing me, Rose," I tell her.

"That sucks...hey, maybe they'll let Angie write your obituary!" Rose says optimistically.

"No way, man!" Eric says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "I call dibs."

"Good to know I'll be missed," I respond sarcastically.

"I'll be the photographer at your funeral," Rose vows.

"Back to work!" Ms. Murphy shouts from her desk. "We've only got a few weeks left." That's visible on her face - I've never seen a women look more frazzled. Understandable, of course, considering that she's in charge of a one hundred and seventy-five-page book that has to be ready to be published in less than a week, with only eight kids to help her.

"Pst!" Rose hisses.

I glance at her, but her eyes were focused on the Photoshop window opened on her computer. Rolling my eyes, I return my gaze to the InDesign spread in front of me.

"Pst, Bella!" Rose whispers again.

I don't look at her this time, but I respond with. "What?"

"Are you busy February 19th?" she breaths.

I think about it. "No," I whisper back. "Why?"

"That's the day of the Muse concert..." Rose trails off suggestively.

My eyes widen. Is she...?

Rose giggles quietly. "You're coming, _right_?"

I turn to face her, but she's still staring at the computer.

"Really?" I hiss.

"Yeah. I was going to ask Emmett, but he's going camping with his family. And I don't want to take Jasper...Please, Bella? No one else understands the true beauty of Muse."

"Of course I'll go!" I whisper excitedly.

Rose squeals happily. "Yay!" she cheers, forgetting to be quiet.

"Back to work!" Ms. Murphy demands.

"Sorry!" we both chorus.

Ms. Murphy just sighs and returns to her typing.

Rose rolls her eyes and hisses. "She can't stay mad at her favorite student."

"Only 'cause I'm the best," I say snippily.

"Suck-up."

Giggling quietly, I finish the spread and move on to the next.

* * *

Jasper walks me to Calculus and kisses me sweetly before Emmett grabs my arm and yanks me away from him.

"No, Jasper," he tells him. "This is Bella and Emmett time."

"And Mr. Varner," I add.

"Right, we can't forget him," Emmett agrees.

Jasper rolls his eyes, and Emmett pretends to lunge at him. "You can have your girlfriend back at lunch...she's mine! Right now, anyway. C'mon, Bella!"

As soon as we're seated, Emmett leans over and whispers. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

I stare at him, appalled. "Ew! Emmett! Are you hitting on me?"

He grimaces. "NO! Ew. I just miss my best friend."

"Aw! Okay. Basketball game?" I ask hopefully. I miss those. It's not the same to play in gym...I get fouled every time. I am better at playing than I was in fifth grade, mostly thanks to playing with Emmett on the weekends. But since I've moved back, we haven't had a chance.

"Yep!" Emmett says happily. "But no Jasper."

"Agreed," I smile. Only Emmett would put limits on a friendly meeting. But he _is _my best friend, so I can cut some slack for him.

"Do you have something to share with the class, Ms. Swan?" Mr. Varner asks, clearly unamused.

"I'm playing basketball with Emmett on tomorrow?" I say hesitantly.

There are a few wry chuckles throughout the class. No doubt, they're wondering what it must look like to see clumsy Bella Swan play basketball. Or any sport, really.

I can tell them right now; it ain't pretty. But, hey, what's life without its mishaps?

"As wonderful as that is, Ms. Swan, please focus on math for now. You can discuss your weekend plans at a later time. Now, if you remember the trig ratios, we're going to need them today..."

The class as a whole groans, save Emmett, who's still smiling widely. Probably because of the game, not because of the math. At least, I hope that's what it is. Sure enough, he looks across the aisle at me and shoots me an exaggerated wink.

I sigh. Only Emmett.

After school, which included three hours of torturous Edward-time, I head to the Journalism room. I still have to finish ten spreads a day. There's hardly any time left, but we're right on schedule. At least, at the pace I'm pulling us. When I get to the room, Ms. Murray tells me to redo the spreads everyone turned in today. "They just don't get it," she says with a sigh.

"No problem," I say, sitting down and getting to work.

As soon as I get home, my phone rings. "Hello?" I say, surprised.

"Bella," Rose sings. "You have a date tonight!"

"How observant," I remark, turning on the stove. I'm making spaghetti for Charlie tonight. He offered to just go to the diner, but I wouldn't hear of it.

"Yes, so I'll be there in ten minutes to help you get ready."

"Ten? Rose, I have to make dinner for Charlie..."

"Hurry up, then," she says cheerfully.

I sigh exaggeratedly. "You better be glad I love you," I grumble.

"Oh, I am. See you soon."

"Yeah. Bye."

Rose arrives after exactly ten minutes, letting herself in and running into the kitchen. "Hey, Belly!" she cries, wrapping her arms around me.

The water is boiling, so I add the spaghetti, breaking the strands in half before dropping them in. Rose retains her grip around my waist. When I finish, I twist my head to look at her. "Hello, Rosie."

She looks a little put out that I ignored her at first, but she smiles at me anyway. "Okay, you finish the spaghetti, I'll go pick your outfit." With that, she runs from the room and up the stairs.

I envy her grace, and stir the spaghetti again, thinking about Jasper happily. After a few minutes, I take a bite from one of the strands of spaghetti. I decide it's tender enough and get out the strainer. Careful not to get the hot water on my fingers, I pour the pasta into the the strainer, letting the water run through.

"Bella," Rose yells, scaring me half to death and nearly causing me to drop the pot.

"Yes," I reply through gritted teeth. I really don't like burning myself. It's unpleasant. Rose is very lucky I didn't accidentally pour water on my hand.

"Is it done?"

"Almost," I sigh. I add butter to the noodles after pouring them back into the pot, and stir them. Then, I stir the sauce that's heating on the back burner and wait for Rose to drag me upstairs.

Sure enough, Rose runs down the stairs after a minute and beams at me. "Ready, Freddy?"

"My name is Bella," I inform her.

"But that doesn't rhyme," she says in the same clinical tone.

My lips quirk upward. "Okay. Let's do this."

She beams and drags me up the stairs to my room.

I stumble along the way, complaining loudly, but Rose just ignores me.

When we arrive in my room, she says, "Put these on!" She tosses dark wash skinny jeans and a black polo at me.

"Isn't this sort of casual?" I ask as I tug my pants off.

Rose, still standing in the room, shamelessly, is going through my makeup bag. She makes a clucking noise. "I know this is your first date and all, but I live with Jasper, and I know what he's wearing. You guys will match! Except for the skinny jeans, and he's not wearing a black polo...he's wearing blue."

"Gotcha," I say, trying on the southern drawl that both she and Jasper have.

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, missy. Chop, chop! I haven't got all day, and neither do you."

I sigh and pull the polo over my head. "Bien?" I ask.

"Sí," she replies, raising an eyebrow. "Why are we speaking in Spanish?"

"Why not? Me gusta."

Rose smirks. "Just like you, uh, 'gusta' my brother."

"Mm, not quite that much," I murmur.

She laughs, and walks across the room, unscrewing the cap to my eyeliner. After ten minutes, she declares my make up satisfactory, and begins working on my hair.

I have no idea what she's doing to my hair, and from the way she's tugging on it, I probably don't want to. Since it's Rosalie, I figure I can trust it to turn out beautiful, though, so I don't comment.

"Okay!" she proclaims. "Perfect."

I glance at the mirror she offers, and sigh. "Why do you have to pull so hard? It's not that hard to straighten hair."

"But yours is all curly," she says simply. "And it had to be done right, not that pathetic wavy look you call straight."

"Okay, okay," I mutter. "What time is it?"

"If you actually want to know how long it will take for Jasper to get her, he's sitting in my dad's car outside," Rose says, smiling.

"How long has he been there?" I demand, jumping up and running to the window.

"Shoes, Bella," Rosalie yells, throwing hi-tops at my side. "Since I got here. You guys are taking me home, too."

"Rose!" I yell, turning around and tackling her. "You could have invited him in."

"Oh, it was more fun this way," she says. "Now get off me before your hair is ruined."

"It's not even done up," I snap, but get up anyway. Hell hath no fury like Rosalie scorned.

"Whiner. C'mon. Put your shoes on, Bella-boo."

With a groan, I put on socks and the hi-tops. "Good?" I ask, standing up straight.

Rose puts her hands up, forming a rectangle with her index fingers and thumbs. She walks around me, looking at me from different angles, like she's a professional photographer...you know, the kind who work in the booths at Walmart. So overly cheesy and just making pointless gestures.

Gotta love people like that.

"Mmhmm," she mumbles as she finishes her circle around me. "Very sexy."

"Thanks, sweetie," I say. "Ever thought about working at Walmart?"

"It's my goal in life to be a Walmart mom," she says sarcastically. "Come on, let's go."

"You aren't going to make a habit of this, are you?" I ask as she pulls me down the stairs, nearly yanking my arm out of the socket--again.

"Keep complaining, and I might," she says.

"Yippee," I say dryly.

She frowns at me and says, "No need to be so happy, Bella."

I look at her wordlessly.

She smiles deviously, and cheers, "Shotgun!"

"What?" I demand. "Heck no! This is _my _date! I get to ride shotgun!"

"Too late, Bella!" Rose yells, running out of the house and towards the car. "I called it!"

"Rosalie!" I scream, running after her. Unfortunately, she beats me to the car, and I'm forced into the back seat.

Rose sits smugly in the front, fiddling with the radio.

Jasper ignores her, instead smiling at me in the rear view mirror. "Hello, Bella."

I melt. "Hi, Jazz. You should have just come in."

He shrugs. "I was okay." But he shoots a glare at Rosalie, anyway, and leans over to punch her lightly.

"Ow!" she cries, pretending to pout. "Belly, Jazzy punched me!"

"You deserved it," I mumble.

Jasper laughs while Rose frowns.

"Traitor," she hisses.

"You stole my seat," I point out, closing my eyes.

The ride is decidedly unpeaceful, since Rosalie insists on listening to hip hop.

"Rose, you don't even _like _hip hop!" Jasper snaps when she settles on a station.

"You're right! I love it." With that, she starts rapping along with the song playing.

After ten minutes, I can't take it anymore. "How long does this freaking song last?"

Rose turned around to stare at me in disbelief. "Bella, this song just started."

I raise an eyebrow. "I can't tell the difference."

"Well, the first one was Lil' Wayne, the second one was T-Pain, and this is Soulja Boy Tell'em. Duh."

"Rose, I don't even know those people."

"Those are people?" Jasper asks in faux wonder.

"You guys really need to broaden your musical horizons," Rose says condescendingly.

Finally, we arrived at their house, and Rose jumped out of the car. "Bye, Bella!"

Groaning, I slide into her seat and change the station. When the soothing sound of rock floats through the speakers - I never thought I'd use the words 'soothing' and 'rock' in the same sentence - Jasper and I breathe out sighs of relief.

"Ready?" Jasper asks turning to smile at me.

I smile. "Ready."

Jasper is, of course, perfect. He takes me to a restaurant in Port Angeles called La Bella Italia. "My favorite," he informs me, winking. "I especially love the name."

I blush and look at my hands.

We're seated fairly quickly, and I look at the menu curiously. After silent debating, I decided on the Chicken Alfredo, and glance up at Jasper.

His eyes are soft as he gazes at me. "You're so cute," he murmurs, realizing that he's been caught staring. "You have the most adorable way of biting your lip when you're thinking."

I blush and duck my head. I don't know how to reply to that - do I tell him all of his cute mannerisms I've cataloged over the years? Or would he think that was borderline stalking?

Yeah, I'll keep this one to myself.

After eating the excellent food and glaring at our servers, we walk around town, along the bay walk.

We stop to sit on one of the docks, letting our feet dangle above the water. The night is quiet, but for the moving water and movement in the city behind us. But it's easy to forget that, and merely gaze outward at the bay.

I breathe through my nose, inhaling the scents of the world around me. I smell the water and the city, but mostly I smell Jasper. And he smells very nice.

But not as nice as Edward.

The traitor thought floats through my head, and I stiffen almost imperceptibly. Why, oh why, did he have to enter my thoughts now? I hadn't been thinking about him all evening. I didn't want to start now. I love Jasper. I do. He's amazing.

I turn to gaze at him, pushing all thoughts of Edward from my head. Jasper is quiet, looking at the water moving slowly, clearly contemplating something. I smile. He's beautiful. Without thinking, I reach up to push a piece of his hair behind his ear.

He glances at me and smiles before returning his gaze. But he takes my hand in his, squeezing it gently.

I want to tell him I love him again, but the conversation I had with my mother yesterday pops up in my head.

"Seems like you two are moving pretty fast," she said.

"Not really," I muttered distractedly. I'd been chopping tomatoes for the salad I'd made for dinner last night. "We're only going on our first date tomorrow."

"But already kissing and saying you love each other...How long have you even known him? Not long enough for love."

"I've known him since I was twelve, Mom. It's been five years."

"But you've been gone for nearly three years. How can you know whether or not he's changed?"

And of course she was right. My mother has a way of looking at things that most people don't notice. Or maybe they do, but then, they aren't my mom. They wouldn't ever say something like that to me. But my mom is always right, so I haven't told Jasper I love him at all, instead asking him questions, from the most unimportant things like favorite colors, to more important philosophical debates.

Over the course of our dinner and walk, he didn't seem different. He doesn't seem different now. Still that quiet, strong person I knew before.

Maybe Renee was wrong for once, though that seems strange. She's nearly always right when it comes to relationships; she's had enough experience in those. And I trust her.

But she doesn't know Jasper.

But she knows it's not smart to start dating someone after three class periods...Okay, so this might not have been the wisest idea.

But he's okay! Super sweet. Your _Soul Mate_. Nothing to worry about.

I was being an idiot. Jasper is the most amazing boyfriend in the entire world.

"I thought you might like it," he says softy. "Of course, this wasn't exactly what I intended..."

Turns out, Jasper rented a rowboat, and we were now sitting in it, on shore. He'd planned to go out onto the bay, but a storm is starting to form, unsurprisingly, so the waves were too tumultuous. But he still wants to get his money's worth, so we're sitting in the boat, just talking.

"I love it, Jasper," I say quickly. It's hard not to use the 'L-word', so I use it, even in if indirectly. He's way too lovable.

"I know it's not exactly like it should be, and I'm sorry. I forgot to check the weather to see if this would be a good time," he rambles.

I reach out and take his hand. "Jasper. Calm down. I know, don't worry. You can't control the weather."

He sighs, and ducks his head. "I love you, Bells."

"I love you, too," I say without thinking. I wince, then, and Jasper squeezes my hand.

"What's wrong?"

Snap. He noticed the wince. "Um," I mumble, stalling. I say the first thing to come to my head. "Nothing. I just forgot that I had some math homework to do. I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend, that's all." As I speak, I realize it's true.

"Really?" he asks, clearly not believing what was originally a bluff.

I smile lightly. "Yep, you can ask Em."

He nods, apparently accepting my words. Then his concerns turn back to the boat. "Are you sure you like it?"

"Absolutely. It beats going to the movies any old day."

He laughs. "Glad you think so."

We talk for nearly an hour, time escaping us as we soon escape the the storm that finally begins. We run to the car, laughing, and I'm grateful that Rose gave me a black shirt. A white one wouldn't have been a good choice.

* * *

"Details!"

"Wahh...?" I say into my phone.

I arrived at home about five minutes ago, kissed Jasper goodbye, and started on my calculus homework. No sooner had I worked through the first problem then Rose had called me. I hadn't even had a chance to answer with a 'hello' before she'd demanded details.

"You know, tell me how the date went."

"How did you even know I was back?" I ask, confused.

"I'm cool like that. Now answer the question."

"No." And I hung up. Don't get me wrong; I love Rose. Despite the fact that I've never had a boyfriend before - a fact Jasper finds amusing and unbelievable - I'm not one to talk to girls about guys. The only girl friends I've ever had were Alice, who never spoke; Angela, who was insane but never would have forced me into something like that; and Rose. Who clearly would.

I groan as the phone rings again, and answer. "Hello?"

"Details, Bella, or I'll give away your ticket."

"You suck, Rose."

"You already told me that, today. _Now_, Bella."

I sigh. "It was amazing, of course."

"Did you kiss?" Rose squeals.

"Goodnight," I admit.

I hear movement on her end of the line. "Uh, Rose...? What are you doing?"

"Victory dance," She informs me happily. "We're gonna be sisters!"

"Don't get carried away," I murmur as I flop onto my bed. "This is our first date." But he's my _Soul Mate_! I want to tell her that, but she'd probably think that was weird. Honestly, if I didn't understand my feelings so perfectly, _I_ would think I was crazy.

"I'm not being carried anywhere. I'm walking."

"Sure, sure. Anyway, I have to do my homework."

"Bella," Rose whines. "Please?"

I sigh, and launch into a detailed description of my evening.

She shrieks angrily when I mention the boat, and I hear her yell at Jasper, running out of breath before Jasper and I could calm her down.

* * *

I laugh as I steal the ball from Emmett and dribble across the court, trying to get to the other basket. Of course, Emmett is going easy on me, otherwise, he would have merely held the ball above my head.

As it is, I'm hard-pressed to stay ten points behind Emmett.

I'm having fun, though, and that's what really matters. We're playing on the court in his backyard.

Don't act like you didn't know they had one...

Emmett tackles me, nearly crushing me with his weight. This is streetball, so I can't call him on his technical foul.

Instead, I playfully try to escape, but there's no hope for me. "Gerroff me, Em," I gasp through my laughter.

He laughs along, and starts to get up when the back door of his house opens and slams shut.

"Hey, Emmett!" Esmé yells. "What would you two like for lunch?"

Emmett looks down at me. "You got a preference, Belly?"

"Of course not."

"Food!" Emmett yells back decisively.

Apparently, Esmé is satisfied with this answer, because she steps back inside without further comment.

Shrugging, I take Emmett's distraction as a chance to subtly run down the court. Since this is streetball, I don't dribble until I'm well away from him. Meaning under the net. I throw the ball up and grin as it goes through the hoop. "Down by nine!" I announce.

Emmett grimaces at me. "Loser."

"And proud of it."

Emmett grins and runs at me, catching me in his thick arms. He rubs my head with his knuckles, and I duck out of his loose grasp.

Running, I throw back my head and laugh.

Emmett instantly starts to chase me, cackling and threatening to tickle me like he might to a five year old.

But this is Emmett, and he's normally perceiving something as a five-year-old might, or acting like he's speaking to a five-year-old. Clearly, someone has an unhealthy obsession with the age of five.

Eventually, he does, of course, catch me.

After being tickled incessantly, I collapse onto the grass, and Emmett dramatically follows me. We're both still giggling - except, of course, Emmett, because real men don't giggle.

_Right_...

After a long moment, we're both silent, gazing at the clouds above us. There's not blue sky, and I do miss that about Phoenix, but I also like the subtle differences in the shades of grey lining the sky. I smile lightly.

"Bella?" Emmett mumbles sluggishly.

"Hmm?" I reply absentmindedly. Currently, I'm envisioning myself floating among the clouds.

"Why'd you stop calling?"

That pulls me sharply back to Earth. "Oh," I gasp sharply, as though being pulled back was a physical thing. "Um." I sit up and gaze at him thoughtfully. How do you put something completely brutal into soft words? I start with the classic, "It wasn't you, it was me."

Emmett sits up, too. "That's good to know."

"And it wasn't because I didn't want to talk to you, per se," I add, still trying to sort my turbulent feelings of that time. I hadn't been completely honest in my explanation to Jasper, just skimming the surface. "It was more like I didn't want to be reminded."

Emmett's brow is puckered in confusion, as he waits for me to explain.

I run my fingers through the too green grass, and try to delve deeper. "I know this sounds...like a bad excuse...but I was completely depressed. I didn't want to talk to my mom for nearly a month. When I did talk to her, I called her 'Renee'. Never 'Mom'. I spent as much time away from her as I could. I was angry with her for taking me away from my friends and my dad. Other than one-sided conversations from my mother, you were the only one I talked to. I made no friends - I didn't want any."

"I don't understand," Emmett interrupts. "If I was the only one, then why...?"

My grip on the grass tightens and my face becomes emotionless. "Like I said, I wanted to forget. I didn't want to remember what it was like to be happy. And I know that doesn't make sense," I sniff, tears welling up in my eyes, "But, I was so angry... Even if I was calling her 'Mom' again, I was just...furious. At both of my parents. I didn't know how to connect with you or Jasper, even, because...I couldn't remember how to...relate with someone without all that agony. I - " I choked on a sob, and paused so that the feeling would pass. "I wanted to pretend it hadn't ever happened. That my parents were still married, and you were still my best friend...

"But I felt so fake, even to myself. I didn't want to burden you with all my stupid emotional baggage, so I kept to myself. Besides," I say, sniffing and trying to compose myself. "We ran out of things to talk about."

Emmett gazes at me, a contemplative look in his eyes. Finally, he sits back on the heels of his hands. He gazes into the sky for a minute, then turns to look back at me. "Why was it easier to reconnect when you got here?"

So much for my attempt to lighten the mood. But I did think about it. "Phil was like a whole new blow," I muse.

Emmett blinks, staring at me uncomprehendingly. "Uh, what?"

"I'm answering," I mutter, sifting through my thoughts. "Phil is my, uh, stepfather, I guess. He and Mom got married a few months ago. It was horrible when they started dating, because I'd finally been able to reconnect with my mother, and it felt like he was stealing her away from me. Not only that, but he was trying to fill a hole that I didn't feel was there - my father's spot.

"Eventually, I got used to the idea of him, and I was slowly able to open up to him. I let someone new into my life, and it was like everything was fixed after that."

"But you didn't call," Emmett states.

"No."

"I don't understand," Emmett says, frustration coloring his tone.

"I hate to say this, but I was busy," I admit.

Emmett's mouth pops open, a hurt expression on his face.

"Don't take it wrong," I say quickly. "It's just, I was taking nine classes, attending church, and helping Mom with the wedding. I hardly had any time to sleep, let alone call you."

"Nine classes?" Emmett exclaims, his eyes wide. "Never mind - I can barely pull off seven. You're forgiven."

"Awesome," I murmur softly. I clench and unclench my hands, resting in my lap.

"Aw, Bella!" Emmett sighs. "Don't be sad!" He pulls me into an Emmett-style bear hug, and I can't help but hug him back.

"Are we still best friends?" I sniff.

"Yep," he says simply.

"Time for lunch," Edward says softly. He's standing a small distance away from us, watching me, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"How long were you standing there?" I ask finally.

He just shrugs and turns away, leaving Emmett to stand and help me up.

Gratefully, I take his proffered hand, and, not releasing his hand, walk to the house.

"Bella," Esmé says excitedly, grabbing my hands when we enter. "I have a surprise for you."

I blanch. "Um. A surprise?" I say weakly. Please, don't be something that will make me feel poor...

"Here!" she says, chipper as ever. She thrusts a package into my hands.

Apprehensively, I look down at the garish neon pink wrapping. "Um, thanks," I murmur.

"Well, open it!"

I cast a furtive glance at Emmett.

He looks at me apologetically.

With a sigh, I slide my finger underneath the wrapping paper, and rip the tape up. After a few seconds of struggling with the paper, I stand victorious, holding a black box in my hands. It fits into my small palms, and has a horrifying picture on it.

An iPhone.

Shocked, and slightly horrified, I look up into Esme's excited eyes.

She beams. "When Charlie mentioned that you didn't have a phone, I just couldn't resist correcting that. And I couldn't give you anything less than the best!"

As quickly as I can, I erase the horror from my eyes. "Thanks, Esmé!" I say enthusiastically. "An iPhone. Wow...um. Yeah."

Edward is staring at the pair of us in disbelief. "You bought her an _iPhone_?" he asks.

Emmett frowns and steps forward, his large hand coming up to rest on my shoulder protectively. He glares menacingly at his brother.

Esmé, apparently oblivious to the stress between the brothers, nods happily. "And I'm paying for the phone bill, so don't worry at all. And you can just sync it with your iTunes library! It's so nifty!"

"Thanks, Esmé," I say honestly. I _do _appreciate the thought behind it, but really, she should have just bought me a Tracfone. Two hundred minutes a year is more than enough.

"She doesn't even like it!" Edward exclaims angrily.

"That's not true," Esmé says, looking hurt. She glances at me, her childish innocence clear on her face. "Right, Bella?"

"Of course I love it," I say, smiling reassuringly at her before turning to glare at Edward. Does he really have to mess everything up?

Despite the fact that Esmé is old enough to be my mother, and is, in fact, Emmett's mother, I always feel the need to shelter her from harsh truths of the world. She doesn't need to know that she intimidates me with her wealth sometimes. She's much too good, much too innocent. I'm not going to crush her innocent misconception that everyone is as wealthy as she is.

I can tell that Esmé is one of the very few people Edward likes, so I don't understand why he's blowing up at her.

Oh, right, because she's being nice to me. Of course.

Edward scowls, and then, frustrated, leaves the room.

Fine by me.

Though our mood is severely dampened, Emmett and I sit down to eat lunch. I don't open the box of my iPhone. I'm likely to squeal over how amazing it is. And that's not something I really want Edward to hear...

We eat grilled cheese, and soon, Emmett has Esmé and I laughing at his latest escapades with Rose. Though they still aren't together, of course, though why, I'm unsure. Shyness on Emmett's part, I guess.

Edward comes down after a few minutes, and apologizes to Esmé. He doesn't look at me, and as soon as he finishes hugging Esmé, he goes back upstairs.

Emmett is frowning. But he quickly replaces his look of dissatisfaction with a grin. "Guitar Hero, Bella?"

Even though I'm mulling over Edward, I grin. "Would I say no?"

* * *

A/N: Hope I did that justice...  
-Rawr. I tried to write a Bella/Jasper date, but gawsh. That's really hard. So I couldn't write it out, but I figured they need some kind of build up before I tear them apart...haha.  
-I hope the Bella and Emmett bonding went over well. I really don't feel like Bella ever completely focused on her split with Emmett in the first chapter, because she was more concerned about her parents at the time. I hope that my explanation for that was up to par.  
Sorry if this chapter seems weird. I was listening to country while writing it...haha. That's pretty odd for me, but I think I'm officially in love with Keith Urban. He is amazing.  
Deuces! AFitA


	6. Dinner and a Show

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Or Winnie the Pooh, Boy Scouts of America, The Dark Knight (LOVE THAT MOVIE), Chapstick, Three Days Grace, Hawthorne Heights, Johannes Brahms, Evanescence, Amy Lee, Clair de Lune, Claude Debussy, the Apple iPhone, Right Said Fred, Hannah Montana, The Red Roof Inn (or any other slang terms for menstruation), Chuck E. Cheese's, Olive Garden, McDonald's (thankfully…gross)

* * *

Chapter 5 – Dinner and a Show

* * *

Despite the fact that Esmé bought me an iPhone, she clearly has it in for me. Okay, so not really. But when I left she told me that Dad and I were coming over for dinner at the Cullens' next Thursday. I think she's trying to kill me. I know she wants Edward and me to get over ourselves, but since I haven't even done anything, I'm finding this very hard. So now I'm stuck eating dinner with him. What joy abounds in my heart…blah.

You know how some people say that they hate life? I disagree. Life hates me. I have nothing to do with this.

* * *

**Thursday, February 12, 2009**

"Ready, Dad?" I call. Tonight, Dad and I are going are going over to the Cullens' for a torture session—I mean, dinner. As you can tell, I'm _very_ excited about it.

Don't get me wrong, I love Carlisle, Esmé, and Emmett; it's Edward I'm not so keen on spending time with. In the words of Winnie the Pooh: Oh, bother.

"Yep, coming down!" Dad yells back. He's been upstairs changing out of his police uniform into something more relaxed. When he comes down the stairs and sees me with some make up on, he frowns. "Is Jasper going to be there?"

I shrug. "Not that I know of. I just thought it would be nice to look good for Esmé." And I did. Edward had nothing to do with my decision to wear make up—Scout's Honor. Which doesn't help me in this situation, I guess, because I'm not a Boy Scout. Oh, well, it's the thought that counts. Right?

"Well, I think you always look beautiful," Dad says, smiling and offering me his arm.

I take it, ducking my head to hide my blush. "Thanks, Dad. It means a lot." My parents have told me that I'm adorable nearly every day for my whole life. Mom and Dad have even called me pretty. But there's something about the B-word that makes my heart swell when I hear it. It's easy to call some one 'cute' or 'attractive', but 'beautiful' implies _so much more_. Even Jasper doesn't call me that.

Smiling, we crawl into my truck—Dad decided it would be better to leave the cruiser at home.

You know that feeling you get, even after you've watched the movie hundreds of times, when, for example, Harvey Dent is in the Mayor's office, and you know a false Batman is about to hit the window in The Dark Knight, and the orchestra starts playing suspenseful music in the background? Surely you know what I mean—that ominous anticipatory feeling that comes over you, even though you know what's going to happen.

That's the feeling that comes over me when we pull into the driveway, mostly because I'm sure something bad is going to happen, and almost certain I know what it is. Six simple letters—E-D-W-A-R-D.

When we walk up to the door, Dad knocks as I reach for the door handle. Awkwardly, I drop my hand. Dad, being the Police Chief, probably wouldn't approve of Esmé's trust, even though it's just me and he knows I can be trusted…I think.

Carlisle opens the door and smiles when he sees us. "Bella! It's so good to see you, and not in the hospital, yet!"

I duck my head, blushing again. Carlisle and I have had many meetings over the years, generally in the hospital waiting room, for one broken bone or another. "Hello, Carlisle. I must agree with you, it is nice not to see you quite as often."

Carlisle laughs. "If you were anyone else, I might be offended." He hugs me and then turns to Dad. "Hello, Charlie. Wonderful to see you up and about, as well. How's that gunshot wound doing? Still giving you trouble?"

"Gunshot?" I ask, surprised.

Dad looks sheepish. "Um, yeah. I got shot about three months ago. I didn't want to worry Renee, though…you know how she is. But I'm fine now," he says, answering us both.

"Sorry, Charlie. Wouldn't have mentioned it if I had known…" Carlisle says.

I chuckle at the cliché Carlisle unknowingly used.

"No problem. Maybe it will encourage Bella not to follow me into the force," Dad jokes.

"No worries about that," I reply.

Esmé appears in the doorway. "Hello, Bella, Charlie. Please come in." She pulls me into a hug the second I'm inside. "Bella, will you go get Edward and Emmett? I've called them, but it's so hard for them to hear me with all that music."

"Sure," I say, and start to go up the stairs. Then I realize that I'm being sent to get Edward. Yippee.

I go to get Emmett first, since that will be less painful. He's in the game room, playing Halo. I'm not sure which Halo, but it doesn't matter to me. Honestly, I don't care about a game where people compete to blow each other's brains out. ...That is the point of Halo, right?

"Em?" I say, poking my head in the room. "Esmé told me to come get you for dinner."

"Okay," he says distractedly. His eyes are still focused on the screen, so I'm not sure if what I said even registered with him.

"Also, she says we're eating purple monkey brains, with goose liver covered in cherry Chapstick. I hear that's Rose's favorite flavor of Chapstick…do you know? I guess you wouldn't, all things considered… But I bet you'd like to find out," I ramble.

Emmett glances at me before refocusing on the screen. "Um. Sure. Whatever."

I blink and giggle. "Okay, Emmett." I'll come back after I get Edward. Emmett is my best friend; I guess I'll let him have some extra time—

"HEY!" Emmett suddenly yells, running into the hallway and tackling me. "Stop making fun of Rose and me!"

"Oh, did you catch that?"

He pouts. "I'm going down stairs." Smirking suddenly, he adds, "Have fun with Edward."

I glower. "No need to be cruel, Emmett."

He laughs and turns to run down the stairs. "HEY, CHARLIE!" he shouts at the top of his lungs when he reaches the bottom floor. Yep, that's Emmett for you.

I hear Three Days Grace blaring nearby—Edward. According to Emmett, Edward has really eclectic musical tastes: from Hawthorne Heights to Johannes Brahms, with everything in between.

Quietly I head in the direction of the music, and recognize the song as (I Hate) Everything About You. I knock on the door and open it slowly.

Edward is sitting at a desk, writing in a small book. A diary? Maybe he really is emo… He has a state of the art stereo and two huge speakers on one side of the room, next to shelves upon shelves of CDs. The thick carpet is gold, and the huge bed in the center of the room has a black spread on it. The walls have thick black curtains hanging on them. Good acoustics, I guess. Across the room from the stereo, two black curtains are parted to reveal a glass wall.

I can't help but sigh at the view his room has, so I pause to gaze out the window, still standing in the doorway.

"Edward?" I call.

Apparently, he can't hear me over the music, so I cross the room and tap on his shoulder.

His head snaps up and he automatically covers whatever he was writing. He frowns when he sees it's me.

I bite my lip at the anger on his face. Have I mentioned he's beautiful even when he's angry? "Um, Esmé told me to come get you."

He nods tightly and stands up, towering over me. I take an involuntary step backwards, and quickly spin around, practically running out of his room.

As I walk down the stairs, I hear him turn his music off and close his door, following behind me.

Okay, so that wasn't too bad. Sure, he was as hard to resist as always, and he was angry (as usual. Tuesdays aren't Edward's 'boy periods', every day is), but all in all, it wasn't _horrible_. He didn't kill me, after all. Or even speak to me—an added bonus. Last time I heard his voice, I thought he was singing and swooned. His voice is like velvety music, absolutely beautiful.

And to think he was asking me if he could borrow a pencil.

Fate seems to be shoving my life into Edward's, yet again. Or maybe this is an elaborate plan from Esmé or Emmett. Whatever the case may be, there are only two seats left at the table, adjacent to one another. Which means I'm the lucky winner who gets to sit next to Edward. Please just shoot me.

I take a seat next to Emmett, looking at my hands, clasped in my lap. "He'll be down in a minute," I tell Esmé.

"Good," she says, smiling at me. She turns back to her conversation with Carlisle and Charlie.

Emmett leans over to poke me. "You have to sit next to the emo," he teases.

"I'm not emo, Emmett," Edward says, sitting next to me.

"Oh, I don't know Eddie. The diary, the music…do you cut yourself, too?" Emmett asks clinically.

"Em, emo music is actually really good," I cut in.

"Sure, sure." Emmett shakes his head, laughing.

I feel eyes on me, and I look up to see Edward looking at me, a pensive look on his face. I blush and duck my head again.

Esmé gets up to retrieve the food for us, and upon returning, sets it in front of us. "We made Italiano for you, Bella."

"Is she even Italian?" Edward asks in disbelief.

Emmett leans over and smacks the back of Edward's head. "Her name _is_ Bella."

I press my cool hands to my hot face. Anything to relieve the burning. Sighing, I drop my hands into my lap, and say a silent prayer. It's a habit I picked up from going to church in Phoenix.

When I open my eyes, Edward is watching me again. He's very close to me, closer than he's ever been before. He can't really scoot away without arousing suspicion from our parents, and so we're stuck with our arms brushing against each other throughout the meal.

"So, Bella, do you and Edward have any classes together?" Carlisle asks conversationally.

I blink. All I can think is how nice our names sound in the same sentence—JASPER! I remind myself quickly. I cast a quick glance at Edward, and catch him looking at me studiously, _again_. "Um, yeah. Physics, chemistry, and gym," I answer carefully.

"Hmm, sounds like some very _physical_ classes," Emmett muses.

Next to me, Edward chokes on his ravioli, and I turn red as the tomato sauce covering my own ravioli.

Emmett laughs silently.

Esmé and Carlisle apparently missed the insinuation in Emmett's tone, but Dad is looking at me strangely.

I shake my head and press my hands against my hot cheeks again. Why me? Why?

After dinner, Esmé shuffles everyone into her lounge. I'd call it a living room, but I know there's a bigger room closer to the front door. It falls under the living room category, whereas this room is a lounge.

Somehow I end up squished between Emmett and Edward—and I mean _squished_. Emmett is huge and takes up nearly half of the couch. Edward and I are pressed close together, sharing the other half of the couch.

Needless to say, it's just a little awkward.

Emmett and Dad start arguing about the safety of cliff diving, a sport Emmett picked up a while ago.

Edward leans over and murmurs in my ear, "Sorry about Emmett."

I shiver at his closeness, and cast a furtive glance in his direction. I think that's a mistake because all coherent thoughts abruptly fly out of my head the second our eyes meet. Struggling to rebuild my response, I stutter, "Um, it's okay. I'm used to it."

"Oh, right," Edward says, leaning back against the couch. "I forgot. You used to live here."

"Yep." I look down at my clasped hands, and start humming to myself softly, to clear the thoughts in my head.

"You know Debussy?" Edward says, shocked.

I'd been humming Clair de Lune, but I abruptly stop when he speaks. "Uh, yeah. Clair de Lune has always helped me to be calm."

"You…" He shakes his head and stops speaking. His lips tighten into a thin line and he leans away from me.

Huh. I guess he remembers that he hates me. I wonder why he forgot… Brushing the thought off, I excuse myself to use the bathroom.

When I return, I sit on the floor to avoid being squished with Edward. Esmé immediately protests, but Emmett decides that it's "the best idea ever", in his own words, and sits next to me quickly. Edward rolls his eyes, still on the couch, but Esmé quits protesting.

"Bella, you are a genius," Emmett says. He wraps an arm around my shoulder. "The way I see it, you're the brains of this operation."

"Oh...Hmm. Who's got the looks? Not you, of course."

"Well, that'd be Ja—Hey!" Emmett pouts while the rest of us chuckle.

"So, Emmett. You ask the Hale girl out yet?" Dad asks.

I burst in to laughter as Emmett frowns. "How would you know about that?"

"Small town, kid. I know all."

"Then you must know I haven't asked her."

"Yeah, but it's always fun to tease."

Esmé sits up straight and beams suddenly. "Oh, Edward! Will you play us a song?"

Edward groans. "Do I have to?"

"What instrument do you play, Edward?" Dad asks.

"I thought you knew all," I tease.

"Piano," Edward mumbles. He gets up and exits the room.

Emmett pulls me to my feet. "Come on, Belly!"

"Emmy," I whine. "Don't call me that."

He laughs deeply and throws me on his back before running after Edward like a maniac. It doesn't take long for us to pass him, and Emmett smacks the back of his head as he passes by. Edward glares.

Our parents chuckle as they follow us at a more leisurely pace.

When we reach the room, Emmett throws me into an armchair. "Oof!" I gasp as my body knocks into the not-so-soft chair. I'm sure it's normally soft, you know, if you don't jump or get thrown at it. A higher velocity always makes objects feel harder...or something like that. Physics and all...

Edward enters the room as I'm scrambling to right myself. He rolls his eyes and Emmett sits on me.

"Gah! Emmett, can't breathe!" I gasp dramatically.

Emmett shakes with laughter and starts bouncing on my lap.

"Emmett, stop giving my daughter a lap dance," Dad says upon entering the room.

Emmett leaps off of me with a disgusted look. "Ew! Bella's like my sister!" he whines.

"Thanks, Dad," I say gratefully. In response, Dad winks.

"Do you want to hear me play," Edward says quietly. "Or are we just going to go on about the weather?" He's moved to the piano bench, and is facing us with a disgruntled look on his face.

"Questioning who happens to be giving Bella a lap dance has nothing to do with the weather, Eddie," Emmett points out.

Edward sighs. "Regardless." And then he places his fingers on the keys. For a brief second, they hover silently, and then seem to vanish. After a second, I can pick their movements out as they dance across the keys in time to the sweet music that now fills the room. The notes are pure and the rhythms complex. The smooth melody is filling my heart and making my chest swell. It's absolutely breathtaking. Stunning. Much like Edward himself.

With a flourish, his hands lift from the keys, signaling the end of the song.

Before I can remember that I don't like him, I have to ask, "Who wrote that?"

Edward glances at me. "I did. It's Esmé's favorite." Here, he smiles at her, his eyes softening.

"It's beautiful," I say softly.

He looks at me, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. Then, he smiles slightly. "Thank you." He turns back to the keys and starts to play a song. This song is much more simple, but poignant in it's own sense.

I recognize it slowly. Evanescence, the intro to Good Enough. I can't help but hum along. When the predominant melody comes out, I have to suck in a deep breath. The song had the ability to stop my breathing before, but with Edward playing it...

Than he starts singing it. An octave lower than Amy Lee sings it, but that's to be expected.

I think I've mentioned how Edward's naturally sounds like music. So when he's actually singing, it's even more beautiful.

I'm pretty sure I my heart stopped beating when Edward sang "Am I good enough for you to love me, too?" Of course I knew he wasn't singing to me—I'm not stupid. But still, I curse the subliminal messaging that led me to believe this. Because I love Jasper, right?

Before he even plays the last chord in the song, he slides on the bench to a different note range and a different song without pausing.

And I know I said this before, but once again, Edward has left me breathless. Because he's playing Clair de Lune.

I feel myself rise up from my seat and go to stand behind Edward. This probably isn't the best idea, but I have no control over myself, really. In awe, I watch his fingers fly over the keys. Surely he can't be the only one playing—there's so many notes! Despite the countless number of times I've heard this song, I've never considered that there's so many notes for one person.

Edward makes it look effortless, and a glance at his face shows me how caught up in the music he is. The expression he has is almost more enrapturing than the music.

As the final note echoes throughout the room, I realize I'm crying.

Edward looks up at me, his gaze burning into mine. He sees my tears and smiles softly. "It's one of my favorites, as well."

For a long moment, it feels like Edward and I are alone in the room. Abruptly, I remember Jasper, and why I shouldn't be attracted to Edward. I take a shuddering breath and a step back. "That's...beautiful. I can't—" I stop abruptly. "Beautiful," I whisper again, and turn away. I need to sit down; I need to breathe.

Lie: I could never feel anything for Edward Cullen but lust and hate.

Truth: This single moment—well, the past five, more accurately—could make me fall for Edward Cullen harder and faster than I ever fell for Jasper. Or maybe it's the whole physics thing again. Because the velocity was higher, I feel like I fell harder.

Whatever the case, I am _so _screwed.

* * *

**Friday, February 13, 2009**

I wake up at three o'clock in the morning, feeling nauseous. I barely have time to make it to the bathroom before I'm puking my guts out. After a minute, I'm sitting on the bathroom floor, practically hugging the toilet and taking deep rasping breaths.

Dad walks in, blearily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "You 'kay?" he mumbles. "Eat somethin' bad?"

I shake my head. "It's not that."

Aunt Flow is visiting, so to speak. I can definitely smell it...er...her.

Thinking about it reminds me, and I hurl again.

As soon as I wash my mouth out, I pull out tampons and show them to Dad.

He stares at me like I've turned purple without my knowledge. "That makes you sick?"

I groan. "Dad. You know me...blood makes me nauseous."

He grimaces. "Oh. Um, right. Well, I'll leave you to it." He high-tails it out of the room, leaving me shaking my head.

Typical. No one with the Y-chromosome can think about periods without freaking out.

Bile rises in my throat again.

I return to my vigil of the toilet, and hope for the smell to go away.

Three more days, I remind myself.

And then in a month, the cycle repeats.

Oh, my heck.

I groan and throw up again.

* * *

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I know, Dad is shaking me awake.

Shaking my head to clear it, I sit up. "Huh?" I say eloquently.

"Uh...I gotta shower?" he says, clearly embarrassed.

"Oh. Okay."

I pull myself out of the room and go to the hallway, trying not to breathe through my nose. I sit outside of the bathroom door, waiting for the nausea to kick in again.

To top off the nausea, I'm cramping. I pull my knees up to my chest to relieve the pain, but that only brings the smell of blood closer to my nose, and I fell the need to vomit again.

I burst into the bathroom—thankfully, Dad is already in the shower, and blocked from my view—and grab my new best friend again.

When Dad turns the water off, I slide out of the room again. Upon exiting the bathroom in his bathrobe, he looks down at me, disbelief coloring his face. "You do this _every _month?"

Ashen-faced, I look up at him. "For three days."

"I guess you can't go to school."

"Nope—aw, crap." I jump up and return to the bathroom.

"How do you even have anything left to throw up?" Dad demands.

I look at him dolefully. "I don't know."

"You staying home?"

"Yeah."

"Okay...Do you need me to stay here, too?" It's clear he's not too fond of that idea. Like I said, males just aren't too interested in menstruation.

"No, I'll be fine."

With vomit dribbling on my t-shirt, I come to two realizations.

One: Jasper was going to take me out to dinner with him, tonight, for Valentines Day. I definitely can't go.

Two: Me falling for Edward? That was just hormones. Praise all that is good.

After taking three ibuprofen, I collapsed on my bed and fell asleep. Eight hours later my new iPhone rings, informing me that Jasper is calling.

I reach for it and mumble, "'Lo?"

"Bella? Are you okay? Why weren't you at school -"

"Rose, give me the phone," I hear Jasper say in the background. There's a quiet scuffle, and I slowly pull myself into awareness.

Apparently, Rose emerges victorious, because it's her voice I hear after a moment, breathless. "Why weren't you at school today?" she repeats.

"I'm sick," I mumble, falling back onto my bed.

Rose sighs dramatically. "Jasper's about to piss himself—he wants to know if you'll be able to go out with him tonight."

"No," I whisper sadly.

"Aw...She says no, Jazzy."

"We could go out tomorrow," Jasper calls. "If you're feeling better?"

"I won't be until Monday," I say.

Rose relays this to him, and he responds with, "Well, then, we'll go out then."

"Everyone will be going out then," I point out.

"Not necessarily," Rose cuts in. "It's a Monday. Most people don't go out on Mondays."

"But it's close to Valentine's Day."

"Speak not of Singles Awareness Day," Rose commands.

"Yes'm."

"What exactly are you sick with, anyhow?" Rose asks.

"I'm on the rag," I say.

"So you get to skip school?" Rose demands, outraged.

"Not quite...the smell of blood makes me nauseous. I threw up all last night."

"Wow, that must suck," Rose muses.

"You have no idea," I mutter darkly. My stomach twists suddenly. "Holy—Here comes another one." I leap out of my bed, landing just inside my door, and pull myself upward into a full out run.

Unfortunately, I don't make it to the toilet, whom I'd nicknamed Bessie after my third bout of vomiting.

I swear, looking down at the bathroom floor, covered in clear throw up—by now, I'm only throwing water up. I swear again when I realize I dropped my iPhone somewhere. I retrace my steps, wiping my mouth with the collar of my already disgusting shirt.

When I find my phone on the floor, I can hear Rose squawking. "Uh, sorry about that."

"Girl," she drawls, "I think I can forgive you for this one."

"Thanks for that," I mumble.

"Well, I'll let you go. Bye, chica."

"Bye."

* * *

**Sunday, February 15, 2009**

By Sunday evening, I've checked out of the 'Red Roof Inn'. Cheered by this, I make lasagna for dinner to celebrate.

Okay, and also because I was craving it.

Dad clearly is enjoying the dinner, and comments on how much better I look.

"I feel better," I agree proudly, as though I have everything to do with the wellness of my health.

"Good," he says. "You had me worried."

"Better get used to it," I comment.

"Ah, right...Every month. Wow."

I giggle lightly and finish my lasagna.

After dinner, I head up to my room to check my e-mail with my iPhone. It is mighty convenient to be able to do that—the Internet wi-fi is much faster on my phone than on the actual computer.

While I'm reading a message from Mom, my phone rings, and a picture of Emmett holding up a peace sign and sticking his tongue out appears. "Emmett calling", says a small blurb beneath his picture, as 'I'm Too Sexy' by Right Said Fred plays.

I grimace. I tap the answer button, and say, "Emmett, why is your ringer ID set to 'I'm too Sexy'? On _my _phone?"

"Because, quite simply, that song wins. And fits me perfectly. I figured I'd help you out on this one."

"Of course." I roll my eyes.

"Rose said you were sick. Are you feeling better now?"

"Yep, just cleared up a few hours ago."

"That's good."

It's clear in his tone that my well-being isn't the reason Emmett called. He sounds distracted but nervous; like he's not quite sure how to approach the subject he really wants to talk about. To help him out, I ask, "So, what's up?"

Yeah, so maybe that's no the best way to encourage him to spit it out. But it's subtle, and Emmett might not pick up on the fact that I know he called me for a different reason. And that's pretty good.

"Well, I'm sure you know that tomorrow is Valentine's Day, or as Rose likes to call it, 'Singles Awareness Day," Emmett hedges.

"Yep. I have a date. Do you?" Not so subtle anymore, but neither is he.

"Um, that's the problem. I want to ask Rose out, but she's...uh...intimidating."

I sigh deeply. "Do you love her?"

"Of course."

"Than just ask. Clearly, she likes you, too."

"She does?"

"Emmett, are you really that dense?"

"Hey, you didn't know Jasper liked you," Emmett points out.

"But I knew we were destined to be together," I reply quickly. Then I blush. Holy crow; I sound like an idiot. 'Destined'? Really?

Emmett bursts into laughter. "What, you think he's like your soul mate, or something?"

"I know he is, retard," I say, rolling my eyes, again. That seems to be a common reaction to Emmett. Go figure.

This only causes Emmett to laugh harder. "Yeesh...you sound like...I don't know, Hannah Montana."

"Sure, Emmett. Look, just ask Rose," I say quickly, to direct the attention away from me. "You'll make her day."

It works—Emmett sighs wearily. "How should I do it? Buy her flowers? Candy?"

"You know Rose, Emmett. You think about what she would like."

"Roses it is," he murmurs. "What color?"

"Red, obviously. Symbolizes love, right?"

"Does it?"

"I don't really know. Look it up on the Internet."

"Okay. Thanks, Bella," Emmett says honestly.

I smile. "Anything for my bestie. For both of you."

"Whatcha mean, Bella-boo?" Emmett asks.

"Well, Rose will appreciate this, too. She's my girl best friend. But you're the best friend of all."

"So who's your boy best friend?"

I think about it for a long moment. I want to say Jasper, but that feels odd. So finally, I say, "Tyler."

"Really?" Emmett asks doubtfully.

"Better him than Edward."

Emmett bursts into laughter. "Wait 'til I tell him that..."

"Whatever, Em."

"Bye, Bells. And thanks, again."

"Sure. Love you, bye."

"Aw, Bella, I'm blushing."

"Shut up, Emmett." And I hang up. I tap the home key and return to my e-mail to finish Renee's message.

* * *

To: IheartForks(at)yahoo(dot)com  
From: spacecase43(at)yahoo(dot)com  
Subject: Valentine's Day?  
Hi Sweetie!

Any development with Jasper? Did you think about what I said at all? I'm sure you'll be better about dating then I was. But I don't want you to make the same mistake that your father and I did. I gave my heart away too soon, and look where we ended up. No offense, but sixth grade seems like too soon.

Of course, I don't know. Jasper could be your one true love. Are you two doing anything for Valentine's Day?

Phil's taking me out to dinner on Monday to a nice restaurant he found. Oh, by the way, he's pretty close to being signed. I'm so excited for him!

Oh, and how did your dinner with Edward go? Is he still being a pill? I hope he's not giving you too much trouble.

You were on the rag this weekend, huh? Did you spend a lot of time getting acquainted with the toilet? Poor thing. I hope your cramps got better as well.

Phil says hi. Sorry, I can't write more right now. Phil's taking me to church this afternoon. Did you find one to attend while you're in Forks?

And you can always more down here with us...

Okay, okay. I've got to go. I love you!

Mom

* * *

To: spacecase43(at)yahoo(dot)com  
From: IheartForks(at)yahoo(dot)com  
Subject: Re: Valentine's Day?

Mom,

I get what you're saying, and I respect that. I _am _thinking about it. it's just... so hard to withhold how much I love him. I'm just so sure he is my _Soul Mate_. But I guess you felt that way, too. Well it's not like we're getting married straight out of high school. Even if Jasper is my _Soul Mate_, I'm a little leery of marriage.

He's taking me out tomorrow. We had planned to go out Friday, but, like you said, Aunt Flow dropped by. Yeah, I spent a lot of time getting to know Dad's commode. Her name's Bessie.

Tell Phil I wish him good luck.

I haven't been to the church here, yet. It's a different church than the one in Phoenix, so I haven't decided if I'll go yet.

I love you,

Bella.

P.S. Esmé bought me an iPhone. That woman is crazy! My number is 555-4681.

* * *

I didn't mention Edward or the dinner, because as far as Mom knows, Edward hates me, and I'm just trying to be friendly. She doesn't know about my inexplicable (Okay, it's very explainable - he's gorgeous) attraction to him. If I talked about how the dinner went, she would know about my overly lusty feelings for him. And that wouldn't be good.

I tell my mom nearly everything. In any case, she knows me much better than anyone else, because she knows things that no one else does, or ever will. But she's already worried about my relationship with Jasper, so she'd probably freak if she found out about my not-so-platonic feelings for Edward.

Seriously he's not good for my health. For one thing, he frustrates me to no end. I can't understand his antagonism towards me. I've been nothing but polite to him - unless you count hitting him the nose with the volleyball. And that was purely an accident. If he didn't know that then, he must know it now, after seeing me in action during the following gym classes.

There's also that annoying butterflies-in-the-stomach, gut-wrenching thing he makes me feel every time I see him. Yeah, yeah, I know. It sounds like I'm in love with him or something. But I swear, everything I feel for him is purely physical. Which sounds really bad, like we're friends with benefits. But not friends. And without the benefits.

Uh...Never mind. That thought was enough to give me the butterfly feeling again. Grr. I'm _so _tired of him. I just wish I didn't have to deal with him.

* * *

**Monday, February 16, 2005**

"Bella!" Mike says when he sees me jump out of my truck. "Where were you on Friday?"

I grimace when I see the bouquet he's holding. Please, don't be for me... "I was...sick." Diplomatically, I say, "Are those for Jessica?" I haven't spent much time with Jessica, since Lauren doesn't seem to like me too much anymore, but I can tell Jess likes Mike.

His face falls. "Oh...actually - "

"There she is now! Hurry up and give them to her," I say, gesturing wildly towards Jessica and Lauren - she doesn't go by 'Lou' anymore. Must feel too masculine.

Mike glances towards Jessica, and I take this chance to get the heck out of Dodge.

Luckily for me, by the time Mike turns back around, I'm far enough away to act like I can't hear him calling my name.

Quickly, I find Jasper, along with Rose and Emmett, sitting at one of the picnic tables outside.

Rose is holding a huge bouquet of red roses and practically glowing. The smile seems like it's permanently affixed to her face.

The expression of pure joy she wears is matched only by the on on Emmett's face.

I beam when I notice that their fingers are entwined.

Rose hands Emmett her flowers when she sees me approaching, and, screeching, runs towards me. Upon reaching me, she throws her arms around me. "You're better! Guess what!"

"Uh, what?" I ask, chuckling as I hug her back.

"Emmett asked me out!" she squeals.

"About time!" I laugh, and walk with Rose back to the guys.

Jasper pulls me away from Rose as soon as I'm in his reaching distance. He hugs me and kisses me gently. "Good to see you," he murmurs. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"To you, as well," I respond, brushing my lips against his again.

"I missed you all weekend," he whispers sweetly, twisting on of my curls around his finger.

"I missed you, too," I say, resting my head on his shoulder. At least, I missed him when I wasn't…chatting…with Bessie.

Rose giggles suddenly. We glance at her, and she says, "Can I tell her?"

I look back to Jasper. "Tell me what?"

Jasper sighs, looking down. "I couldn't get reservations tonight," he admits.

"It's okay," I say. Even though I really wanted to spend some time with him, I can forgive him for this. It's not his fault I got sick.

"But!" Rose interjects.

"When I called Emmett with my predicament, "Jasper continues, "he reserved a place for four…"

"We're going on a double date!" Rose cheers.

I blink. For Valentine's day? "Okay," I say, not trusting myself to say more. I really don't lie well—not that it's a quality I want, or anything.

Emmett beams. "It'll be just like old times," he says cheerfully.

His happiness is contagious, and coupled with Rose's exuberance, I can't help but smile.

Jasper immediately relaxes when I do, making me feel guilty and ungrateful—not that he did that on purpose.

Just be glad you get to go out at all, I tell myself. "Yeah," I say quickly. "It'll be fun."

The warning bell rings, and Jasper takes my hand. "Ready for English?"

"Always," I say, smiling.

After talking with Mr. Mason about the work I missed on Friday, I take a seat next to Jasper.

"Are you sure it will be okay tonight?" he asks anxiously.

I take his hand and squeeze it. "Perfectly alright," I smile. "Any time spent with you is wonderful."

"Are you sure? I mean, we can do something else—"

"No," I say firmly. "Like I said—it will be fun."

"If you're sure," he says at last.

"Absolutely."

* * *

When I get to Physics, I decide I'll make an effort to be polite to Edward. After all, if he likes Clair de Lune, he must be at least sort of okay. Right?

So when I sit down, I smile at him, and simply say, "Hello."

Of course, being the moody, emotional person he is, and most likely weighed down by the thought that he'll be on his 'boy period' tomorrow, Edward refuses to even look at me. His fists are clenched in front of him, resting on the table.

Slightly stung, but not truly caring enough, I pull my books out and arrange my pencils on my desk. Amazing how boredom makes a person OCD.

"Look," Edward says suddenly, surprising me. He's got an upset look on his face, and I almost feel bad for him. Almost. But this is Edward we're talking about, and clearly, he doesn't want or deserve sympathy. "It'd be better if we weren't friends."

I raise an eyebrow. "I'm just being polite, Edward. I never said we should be best buds. Just hello."

His eye literally twitches, and I resist the urge to giggle. "Okay. Okay. Hello."

And then we go back to ignoring each other—did you expect anything different?

Personally, I find the whole situation rather amusing. Edward is clearly frustrated with my refusal to obey his order to leave him alone.

* * *

"This is my favorite restaurant," Emmett says when he pulls into a lot.

"What, Chuck E. Cheese's?" I ask, curious.

"Ha, ha. So funny, Bella."

"What?" I ask. "It was a good guess."

"No. Olive Garden."

Rose beams, and reaches across the seat to kiss Emmett's cheek. "Me, too!"

I smile slightly. "You guys are perfect for each other."

Rose turns around. "Normal people say 'y'all'."

"Maybe in Kansas…" I mumble.

"I'm not from Kansas," Jasper points out. "I'm from Texas."

"Why bring it up?" I ask. Laughing, I kiss Jasper, and then pat Rose's head.

"No!" she shrieks. "Don't muss my hair."

Ignoring her, I turn to Emmett. "How'd you get reservations for any place other than McDonald's?"

"Since there's four of us. Everyone else had reservations made for two… So they had room."

I nod.

"Let's go!" Emmett says eagerly.

Seated and laughing at a table, we talk to each other, as we wait for our server to come by with our orders.

Jasper leans over, and murmurs in my ear, "You look beautiful."

I blush and look down. "Thank you."

"You always do," he continues, brushing my hair behind my shoulder, as I'd used it to hide my face.

"I swear," I mumble, "Sometimes you're _too_ perfect."

"I hope not. You might get annoyed with me." His voice is filled with amusement.

"Never," I vow.

The previous date, I'd asked to know various things about him. Now I wanted to know why. So to take the attention away from myself, I ask, "Why is cobalt your favorite color? Why not just blue?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Bella, everyone's favorite color is blue."

"Not mine," I interrupt quickly.

He smiles lightly. "Of course not. You're one in a million. But what I mean is, the particular shade of cobalt is better than the all-encompassing color blue."

I smile slightly. "Okay, understandable. Good answer."

And so it goes.

* * *

A/N: Does anyone actually say 'Oh, my heck'? I don't, I just threw it in there as a joke...  
Also, those e-mail addresses are made up. Hopefully they aren't real...Apologies to the owners, if they are!

By the way...could everyone please review? I normally don't ask, but it's my birthday, so please?


	7. Black Holes and Revelations

A/N: Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. It's been six months and eight days since I updated. Hate me. I have several chapters done, that I will upload over my break from school that starts soon. Promise. The problem is, I don't know what happened to my BETAs...they disappeared? I'm looking for a new one, if anyone is willing. That means this chapter is unedited, for which I apologize.

Disclaimer: Yep, don't own Twilight. Nor do I own Black Holes and Revelations (Property of MUSE), City and Colour, Guitar Hero, the Internet, Muse, Matt Bellamy, No Doubt, Return of Saturn, Gwen Stefani, Fall Out Boy, Michael Jackson (the originator of 'Beat It'), the Apple iHome, M&Ms, Barack Obama, The Grammy Awards, or Iraq.

**Chapter 6 – Black Holes and Revelations  
**(Title belongs to Muse.)

"I've been up for days, trying to find a way  
To write this confession down,  
…it's passion; it's not love  
…at least I won't be alone tonight…"  
**- Confession by City and Colour**  
-

**Friday, February 20, 2009**

Tomorrow night, Rose and I are going to the Muse concert in Seattle. It's going to be fabulous, of course, but it does mean time away from Jasper. Which sucks for me.

Jasper and I are leaning against my truck in the school lot, waiting for Rose. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it. I'm going to the movies tomorrow night."

"With who?" I ask. Not because I'm jealous. I'm just curious. After all, he's my boyfriend, and I do sort of deserve to know that kind of stuff.

"Uh, Alice Weber."

"Alice?" I repeat. I'm just a little confused—I hadn't been aware that the two of them were friends. Not that I'm jealous.

Jasper nods. "Yeah...she mentioned that Edward and his family were all going camping, so she didn't have anything to do. I told her about how you and Rose were going to the concert, and she suggested we go see a movie."

Honest feelings: Uncertainty. Confusion. Insecurity. Worry. Lack of trust.

Outward feelings: Calmness. Confidence. Trusting.

"Have fun," I say. I don't accuse him of cheating on me. I don't accuse him of going off with some other girl—although technically, he is. After all, lack of trust indicates that a person can't be trusted. Jasper can trust me. Right? I mean, I haven't acted on my desires to make out with Edward. I'm rather proud of myself. So I can trust Jasper to do the same thing.

Right?

As though he understands my fear, despite my façade, he says, "I promise not to run off and elope with some other girl. You are my one, my only."

I smile, calmed. "Thanks, Jazz." Then I feel guilty. "Oh, am I keeping you from her? I didn't mean to; it's just, she's always with Edward, and you know how he is," I ramble.

"No, no!" Jasper said quickly. "I still see her. We take art together."

"Oh. Okay."

"Bella!" Rose screams. She bounces over to me and wraps her arms around my waist. "Guess what, guess what, guess what!" she demands.

"Brad Pitt came out of the closet?" I guess wildly. Not that I really think that would happen, but you have to admit, it would be hilarious.

"No," she groans. "It directly involves my life. And your life."

"Oh, well in that case...I don't know."

"You're spending the night!" she shrieks in my ear.

"Rose!" I snap, leaning away from her. "Are you _trying _to kill my ears?"

"Of course not," she says, stepping back and bouncing happily. "I'm just really excited."

"Rosie!" Emmett gasps, running towards us. "Don't run so fast!"

Rose squeals and leaps into his arms. He stumbles backwards as he catches her and smiles, clearly amused.

Jasper sighs quietly. "I don't know if I approve of this...PDA."

Rose and I both turn to glare at him, so he quickly says, "It took too long for you to get together, that's all."

Emmett frowns. Snidely, he says, "It's kinda hard to beat asking someone after one day."

It's his turn to be the receiver of the glares. Rose punches him and he frowns, rubbing the spot of his injury. "Rose," he whines.

Jasper coughs to cover his laughter. "Just 'cause you didn't have the balls..."

"As I recall," I say, slightly annoyed, "I helped you through quite a bit of that."

"Ha!" Emmett says, sticking his tongue out at Jasper.

I wink at him. "I got your back, man."

"Best friends forever," he agrees. "Knuckle touch!"

I oblige, sighing deeply.

Jasper wraps his arms around me from behind. "I thought _I _was your best friend," he mumbles in my ear.

"Best _boyfriend_," I correct.

"Is there more than one?"

"Not currently, but if you want, I could start dating Mike Newton on the side," I muse.

"Oh, don't let him hear you say that, Bella," Alice Weber says, appearing next to me suddenly. Darn. Where Alice is, Edward is. How unfortunate. She smiles at me gently. "He might think you actually like him. And we all know you don't want that."

"Ah, if only _he _knew that," I say with a sigh.

Alice laughs and hugs me. "I missed you, Bella." Weird, 'cause I've been back for a month. But then, I have been avoiding her, or more specifically, Edward. Ah, well, life goes on.

"Bella? Be at my house by six, okay? We're gonna have so much fun," Rose says, grinning from her position in Emmett's arms.

"Okay," I agree, before pulling Jasper down for a kiss.

Jasper rolls his eyes and ruffles my hair. He glances at Alice and says "Six-thirty, right?"

"Yep," she says, her mouth popping on the 'p'.

That little exchange just sent daggers through my heart. Hm. Is this how most girls feel when their boyfriends go out with friends? Or am I just really insecure? Maybe I should work on that. I look up and see Edward watching me, a concerned look on his face. Yikes. Was my discomfort that obvious? He's clearly okay with Alice going out... When I meet his gaze, he looks down at Alice casually and asks if she's riding with Angie.

She nods and kisses his cheek before dancing away with Angie.

Rose is positively beaming as she leads Emmett away by the hand. Jasper looks vaguely disgusted. He glances at me and casually puts his arm around my shoulders. "So, Bella. You have a truck...I have no car...Emmett was my ride home, but I don't want to see him flirt with my sister..."

I laugh at him. I'm in a good mood today. The prospect of a Muse concert probably has everything to do with it. But honestly, if you were going to go to your favorite band's concert, and you didn't even have to pay, you'd be pretty happy, too. Look at me, laughing at of the things that really aren't that funny. "Yes, Jasper," I sigh. "You can have a ride home."

He grins. "Thanks, Bells."

Edward chuckles as he walks by.

I'm rather proud to say I forgot he was there. Normally, I'm hyper aware of every breath he takes and even the most minuscule movements. As it was, my luck couldn't last—while he walks by, all of my muscles bunch up tightly.

Jasper rubs my shoulder sympathetically. He thinks that Edward just riles me up, and I'm not going to change his perception of my discomfort.

Despite the fact that Edward actually seems to be worried about me sometimes, we don't speak. He still sits far away from me and looks at my cheek when he's talking to me. Never my eyes. Oh, and when he talks to me, it's always because he needs to borrow paper or something. Not a conversation you'd have with a friend. Because we aren't friends.

I hate him for being beautiful.

Okay, I don't _really _hate him. _He _could hate _me_, but it's practically physically—and mentally—impossible for me to hate anyone. Those two and a half years I spent going to church encoded loving everyone to my brain.

Huh. I _really _should find out what church that was - I don't think other religious people are that serious about the no-hate thing.

The drive to Jasper's house is comfortable. He fiddles with my radio a little, but gives up after being unsuccessful at finding a station. Instead, he watches me hum as I drive down the road.

I'm almost constantly humming, nowadays. It distracts me from all the stress in my life—for example, Edward.

Ah, but I'm not going to think about him tonight. Tonight, it's just me, and Rose. And tomorrow, we can add Matt Bellamy to the mix. And, of course, the rest of the band, but really, Matt Bellamy IS Muse. His voice, escalating up and down the pitches in all of their songs, makes my heart thump with the beat and my stomach fill with butterflies. Almost like when Jasper is kissing me, but different—less intense, but at the same time, incredibly more so. It's like I become a part of the music; like I'm flying. It's beautiful; it's art. Even better—it's perfection. It's Muse.

Ah...I tend to get a bit carried away when it comes to the best band in existence.

To clear my thoughts, I turn to Jasper. "I have some CDs in the glove compartment. Choose one if you want."

He smiles and pulls out the CD holder, flipping through it. He finally chooses one of my No Doubt CDs—Return of Saturn. A simple guitar rhythm starts, and then Gwen's full voice bursts out, "I kinda always knew I'd end up your ex-girlfriend..."

"I didn't know you liked No Doubt," I comment as I turn on to his street.

Jasper gives me a small smile. "They're alright," he says, blushing a little.

I raise an eyebrow. "It's okay to like ska bands..."

He smiles and ducks his head. "Guilty pleasure," he admits.

"Meaning Emmett would tease you to no end if he knew about it?"

"Mmhmm," Jasper agrees.

I giggle as we pull into his driveway. "Bye, Jazz."

He leans across the seat and kisses my cheek. "You know I love you, right?"

My heart swells in my chest, and I smile at him. This is why he's my _Soul Mate_—he always knows what's bothering me and how to fix it. Kissing him softly, I say, "Yeah. Love you, too." I watch him exit my truck and walk up the walkway to his house.

He turns back and waves at me as he opens his door.

I wave back half-heartedly. Even Jasper can't distract me from my excitement for tomorrow night. I sing along to the third track, Bathwater, letting my full emotion be expressed. I'm so happy right now, it's not even funny.

When I get home, I make Dad dinner and leave him a note in case I'm gone before he gets back. I go upstairs to pack, excited about spending the night with Rose. And Jasper, I think to myself. That will be tough, to say the least. Not that I'll be able to focus on anything but Muse before—and after seeing them live.

After I finish packing, I sigh, realizing that I've still got an hour before I can even consider driving to Rose's house. I consider my options. I could drive over to Emmett's and play Guitar Hero for a bit. Or check my e-mail. Or scope out a job, maybe. Mike has been pressuring me to get a job at his dad's sport store, but I'm uninterested in spending any more time than necessary with Michael Newton. Strange how a really good friend in fifth grade can become such an annoying eleventh grader. But, that is, in essence, Mike.

Idly, I pick up a nearby newspaper. The front page has a picture of soldiers and children in Iraq. I sigh and search for the comics. Charlie must have removed them, though, because after a few minutes of searching, I still can't find them. With a resigned sigh, I flip through the paper to read the editorials.

After thirty minutes of listlessly reading through letters to the editor and amusing editorials, I rearrange the paper into its proper order, pick up my bag for my stay at Rose's, and grab my car keys. Time to fly.

When I reach Rose's, Jasper comes running down the steps and pulls me into his arms before I can even get out of the cab. "Um, hey..." I say, surprised.

"Bella," Jasper says sorrowfully. "Rose says I'm not allowed to talk to you starting in…Well, thirty seconds. She said something about a 'Girl's Night', I think."

"Okay, loverboy," Rose barks. "Your time is up. Step away from the female!"

I burst into laughter and slid out of his arms. "Sorry, 'loverboy'. I must do as Rose commands."

"I understand your predicament," Jasper agrees dolefully.

"You heard me, blondie! Back up," Rose snaps, holding her hands out in the shape of a gun.

"That's awfully hypocritical," Jasper says, but he backs up anyway.

Shaking my head, I grab my bag before closing and locking my door. "Okay, madam. Here I am."

Rose frowns. "Doesn't madam mean 'old woman'?"

"I don't know. I took Spanish, not French."

Jasper pipes up, "I think you're referring to 'madame'. And that means 'married woman'."

"Silence, male." Rose leaps forward, grabs my arm, and yanks me away from Jasper.

"Goodbye, my love. The witch shall surely devour me, but know that I shall always love you!" I cried as I ran inside with Rose.

"You'll be lucky if I only devour you," Rose mumbles.

"I guess you'll have to do my make up and hair before you sacrifice me, huh?" I guess.

"You guessed right! Wow, I didn't realize you were this intelligent."

"Shut up."  
-

According to four out of five experts, girl sleepovers generally include makeovers and talks about guys—which of course means that no boys are allowed—along with the occasional movie. Oh, and no actual sleeping. And you can't forget the loads of junk food that will no doubt be consumed.

Of course, I don't know how you get to the point of being an expert of…well, what, exactly? Female sleepovers? Also, I don't know what the other so-called 'expert' thinks. Then there's the undeniable fact that ninety-one percent of statistics are made up on the spot…case in point: now.

But, the most important thing is that Rose follows the teachings of those four experts _religiously_.

So here I am, my hair being tugged a million different ways, while the 'Beat It' cover that Fall Out Boy did blasts from Rose's iHome.

"This is better than the original," I say as the song comes to a close.

"That's because FOB is better," Rose says, as though that should have been obvious. Which, of course, it should have been.

"I look ridiculous," I complain when Rose shows me my hair in the mirror. She's pulled it up into bunches of ponytails, all sticking in different directions.

She smirks. "I think it's charming."

"Oddball. My turn," I say, grinning like mad.

She winces and holds her hand up. Swallowing, she says, "Come on, Bella…it was just a joke…"

"Oh, I don't mind," I say, smiling from ear to ear. "No one's going to see me, anyway."

"You aren't mad?" she asks hopefully.

"Of course not. I just want to play with your pretty hair. Come on…" I smirk as Rose looks at me warily.

"Okay," she allows. "But don't you dare touch the scissors."

"Rose. Give me some credit. This is all just harmless fun." Pause. "Right?"

"Of course," she says, looking much relieved.

Giggling, I push her gently and grab her full head. I pile it on top of her head and twist it until it looks like a rat's mess. "Ha. Love you." I wrap a scrunchy around it, and say, "Voila!"

She grimaces. "Was that really fun, Bella?"

"Yes. It's amusing to see your hair anything less than beautiful."

A look of faux horror crosses her face. "What? Tell me I'm pretty!"

Then we both burst into laughter.

"Let's play a game," Rose sings after she finishes my make up. Apparently, she won't let me touch her face; something about awkwardness.

"Okay," I say with a sigh.

"Truth or Dare," she demands.

I groan. "Really? Let's not..."

"Oh, come on! We're best friends. We're supposed to tell each other everything." Pause. "Unless there's something you don't want me to know..."

I grimace. "Okay, fine. What are the rules?"

"Oh, I don't know. Do we need them?"

"Normally there are rules."

"Well, I don't want rules." Clearly, the junk food was talking. We've been gorging ourselves on candy and fruit punch. Apparently, all the sugar is making Rose rather...lax.

"Okay, sure. You want to go first?"

"Yes! Truth or dare?"

Like I would choose dare. "Truth."

"Okay...um... Do you pick your nose?"

"Rose? Of all the questions you could have asked me...No."

"Okay, okay. Fine. Your turn."

"'Kay. Truth or dare?"

"Never mind, I don't want to play anymore. Let's watch a movie." Wow, really hyper. Frighteningly so.

I blink and shrug. "Alright...no skin off of my nose. But don't think I'll forget that you owe me."

"Owe you what?" she asks, wide-eyed.

I grin wickedly. "A truth. Or a dare, your choice. Later."

"Whatever. Movie time! And popcorn, with M&Ms…Yum."

After the third movie, we lay on Rose's queen-sized bed, more than a little sleepy. During the first movie, Mrs. Hale—who had insisted I call her 'Anita'—had brought us dinner, to couple with the popcorn and excessive sugar, so we hadn't left Rose's room since my arrival. Which is okay, since I wouldn't have been allowed to see Jasper anyway.

"Bella?" Rose mumbles.

"Hmm?" Not only is it fairly late—six hours of movies can do that to a person—but we've also hit the low after the sugar high.

"What do you think...about Jasper...going to the movies with Alice?" she asks, yawning every few words.

"I trust him. I think."

"You think?"

"Well," I mumble tiredly, "I wouldn't trust myself with Edward. I don't know how Jasper feels about Alice, and for all I know, he could feel attraction to her, too. But I don't think he'd cheat on me." I sluggishly wonder if that made any sense. Ah, well.

Rose abruptly sits up, apparently processing my words. She's suddenly awake and clear-headed. "Wait. What about Edward?"

I slap a hand over my mouth as realization comes over me. Tiredness and an interrogation from Rose are _so _not good partners. "Please tell me I did _not _just say that."

She crosses her arms over her chest. "Start talking, Missy." Clearly, Jasper and his impending date with Alice are unimportant pieces of conversation, now.

"Well," I hedge, "You know I like Jasper. Love him, even."

She nods stiffly.

It's at this point that I notice she bears strong resemblance to a mother, protecting her young one's from injury or insult. Must be a twin thing.

"I like him for his personality and his looks. I'm very sure he's my..." I pause, uncomfortable. Not that I wasn't before—after all, I never intended for anyone to discover my feelings for Edward. I press on, though. It can't be _that _weird. "_Soul Mate_."

The corner of her lips curl upward in spite of herself. "Cute."

I blush and look away. "Thanks." Sitting up, I tug on one of my numerous ponytails. "But when I got here... I admit that Edward is gorgeous."

"Everyone knows that, Bella. If he wasn't such a jerk..." Rose smirks. "Let's just say Emmett might have some competition for my heart."

"Exactly," I agree. "Except for the Emmett part."

She laughs and pokes me. (I'm completely relieved, by the way, that she's no longer pissed.) "Okay. But that's not all. There's a reason he's got you so tripped up."

I groan. "Why do you and my mother have to be so perceptive?" I demand. "Okay. Before I met Edward, you know, when I was in Phoenix, Jasper was always in the back of my mind—at _least_. And when I got here, it wasn't too different. Until Edward glared at me."

"And then?"

"Everything got flipped topsy-turvy. Edward now monopolizes my thoughts when I'm not with Jasper or sufficiently distracted."

"What does that mean?" Rose asks suggestively.

"Ha. Ha. Like homework," I say, rolling my eyes. Sometimes. But she need not know that...

"Nerd."

I just look at her.

She sighs. "If homework is all it takes to...erm, 'sufficiently distract' you, I wouldn't worry about it."

I wince. "Okay, I lied. It takes more than homework."

"Thought so," she admits.

"But he hates me and I'm still in love with Jasper," I reassure her.

"Sure," Rose agrees thoughtfully. "What are you going to do?"

"About what?" I ask, feigning confusion.

"You know. Edward."

"Oh. Nothing."

"Really?" she asks, clearly surprised.

"I'm not going to risk true love because I'm lusting after Edward Cullen."

Case closed.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

The next morning, we sleep in until twelve. I can't remember ever doing that before, so when I do wake up, I'm pleased. I probably would have slept longer, but I wake up to find Rose sitting on me, poking my face.

When I open my eyes, she gasps. "She lives!" she cries.

"Shut up," I groan, attempting to roll over. Not so easy considering Rose is still sitting on me. Grr.

"Come on. Mom made waffles for lunch. And hash browns. Guess what? They resemble your hair!"

"Shut up," I repeat, and shove her off of me.

Giggling, she picks herself up from the floor. "I'm hungry. Come on!"

With a sigh, I throw back the covers and slide out of the bed. "Okay, okay," I slur. "I'm up."

"Goodie. I love eating breakfast for lunch."

"Most people eat it for dinner."

"And some people call lunch 'dinner'. What will be, will be."

"Blah."

"No need to be so grumpy."

I just look at her, my eyes droopy and my hair a haystack—or as Rose had commented, a pile of hash browns. Which sounds really good about now.

Wisely, she smiles and says, "Sorry."

"Thought so," I mumble as we enter the dining room.

"Good morning, Bella!" Mrs. Hale says cheerfully.

Jasper smiles and waves.

"No contact!" Rose snaps.

"I wasn't touching her," Jasper points out.

I smile goofily, forgetting for a minute the rat's nest I call hair.

"But you spoke. No communication."

Jasper picks up the newspaper and snaps it, popping it up to shield his face. When Rose isn't looking, he lowers it and winks at me, before quickly pulling it up again.

I roll my eyes and bite into the waffle that Rose's mom made. "Yum. Awesome job, Mrs. Hale!"

"Thank you, dear. And it's Anita. When will the two of you be leaving, Rose?" she asks. Upon close observation, Mrs. Anita Hale is a sad looking woman. It's clear that her children inherited their good looks from her, but also clear that they received their cheerfulness from their father, perhaps. She speaks with a tired, sad smile, and no sparkles in her eyes.

"Huh?" Rose says through a mouthful of syrupy waffles. "Uh, three." Apparently, the sadness is nothing new—neither Rose nor Jasper commented on it.

"That's a little early, isn't it?"

"No… We need plenty of time. Never know what could happen. I refuse to be late to see Muse."

"I second the motion," I say.

Jasper lowers the newspaper and looks across the table at us. He raises his eyebrows. "I think this would fall under the 'Obsession' category."

"You're just jealous," Rose jumps in. "That Bella doesn't do the same thing for you."

He smiles. "Okay, true enough."

I blush, intently focusing on my hash browns. I scoop up a forkful and pop it into my mouth, reveling in the potato goodness. "These are amazing," I inform Mrs. Hale.

She grins. "I do make a good breakfast." She points her spatula at the spread on the table, and says, "That's southern style. We do it best."

I giggle. "Agreed."

Rose wiggles her eyebrows at me.

"What?"

"Betcha think Jasper does it better."

"Of course." I wink at Jasper when he lowers the newspaper. He winks back.

Rose glares at him until he raises it again.

I snicker. "You guys are weird."

"No... I just don't want my stupid brother to steal my best friend." She bites her lip after she says that, glancing at me quickly, and almost looking worried. She seems to wish she hadn't let that slip; perhaps she's not sure how I'll react? Though that would make sense, considering all the times I've said Emmett is my best friend. But Rose only hangs out with Emmett, Jasper, and me. So, I suppose, it would make sense that she considers me her best friend.

But...is she mine? I definitely spend enough time with her, and she did get me tickets to a Muse concert, which automatically elevates her position. Not that my love can be bought, but if that's not a hint that she thinks I'm her best friend, I don't know what is. But back to the point.

I can tell her anything, but that doesn't mean I wasn't scared she'd hate me for liking some other guy, while dating her brother. I mean, she _loves_ her brother. And I'm fairly certain she'd defend him with the fury of a pit bull. They're furious, right? Anyway.

But she said she trusted me, and I'm not sure _I_ trust me. And I did tell her. That means something, right?

"That wouldn't happen," I say at last, filling the awkward silence. In the time that I've been thinking, Rose has dropped her head to hide her face. "I'd never let a guy come between me and my bestie."

A relieved smile lights up her face, and Jasper snaps the newspaper, hiding his face behind it.

I blush—I hadn't realized he was listening or watching.

Rose now fills the room with animated dialogue, and I join in enthusiastically. Jasper leaves while we're talking about the concert, going down the hallway to his bedroom. When we finish breakfast, Rose drags me to her room and orders me to do something about the haystack I call hair. So, while I do my best to untangle it, Rose flits around the room, digging through drawers and her closet. Finally, she emerges triumphant with a cream-colored Muse t-shirt and a pair of faded skinny jeans. She dresses quickly, and then comes to stand by me to fix her own hair and her makeup. She sings while she straightens her hair.

I send her a sidelong glance, as, at last, my hair seems to be mostly tangle-free. "Keep your day job," I comment, and go to get dressed myself. I return to the mirror in the same outfit I wore on the first day of school.

Rose beams when she sees me. It looks just a little funny, mostly because she only has eyeliner on one eye. "Do that curly thing with your hair."

I smile at her word choice, and nod. "'Kay."

At two o'clock, we're completely ready, with an hour to kill. Listlessly, Rose flips through the channels on their TV, finding nothing to watch. At last, at two-thirty, Rose leaps to her feet. "I can't take it anymore!" she announces.

Jasper, sitting in the living room, still jokingly hiding his face behind the newspaper, peers over the top of it. "Hmm?" he mumbled lethargically.

"Why won't time go faster?" she exclaims dramatically.

"Well," I began. "Some scholars believe that time really doesn't even exist. It's just something we measure. Rather than a river, it might be like a spinning lake..." I trail off, observing that Rose is glaring at me like I've become a Satanist. "Or, you could go with the general approach. Time flies when you're having fun...not so much when you're bored."

She sighs dramatically, and collapses into a heap on the couch.

Amused, Jasper and I stare at her.

"What?" she demands upon seeing us. "Watch the TV, not me!"

Jasper smirks before popping the newspaper up again. Once hidden, I hear him chuckle softly. "Only Rose," he murmurs.

I concur.

Rose sits up straight suddenly, and snaps her head around to stare at the clock. She groans. "2:35. Flippin' perfect."

I snort. Who knew timid Rose could be so excited and impatient? This weekend was the most emotional I'd ever seen her. Well, except for after my first date with Jasper. Does that count?

Well, maybe it's just proof that she does consider me her best friend. True colors show then, right? I wouldn't really know; the only best friend I've ever had was Emmett, and he always shows his true colors. He's Rose's complete opposite at face value; extroverted and excitable, while Rose is introverted and calm.

Well, that's what it seems like, anyway. Clearly not correct.

But since they're both apparently _very _excitable, they're perfect for each other. Which is good.

"Okay, let's go," Rose snaps.

I glance at the clock. "It's two-forty-five. We'll be, like, an hour early," I say.

"Your point? We'll go get food, or something."

I shrug. "Okay. Have fun at the movies tonight, Jasper!" After debating with myself inwardly all night, I've decided that trust is one of the most important things in a relationship, and so I'll trust Jasper with this. I know he would never cheat on anyone; it's just not in his personality.

Regardless of my trust, though, I am still insecure about the whole thing. But it's not him I'm insecure about, it's me. Still, outwardly, I'll support him. Because that's what you do when you're dating your _Soul Mate_.

"Bye, Bells," Jasper says. He hugs me, putting the newspaper down for a minute. Then, to Rose, he says, "Does this mean I can quit reading about Obama?"

After telling Rose's mother that we're leaving, we pile into her father's car and hit the road.

As we pull out of the driveway, I ask, "Where is your dad, anyway?"

Her lips tighten almost imperceptibly, and her knuckles gripping the steering wheel turn white. "Not here."

"Oh," I say, dropping it. It's clearly a touchy subject for her, and I don't want to make her uncomfortable. Normally, I wouldn't have asked about the whereabouts of someone's absent parent, but I thought it was odd that we were riding in his car, but hadn't seen him all day or night. Maybe Mrs. Hale's sadness had something to do with his absence.

For some reason, I hoped it wasn't.

"I'm sorry, Bella," Rose says apologetically. "I just can't...not right now. I'll tell you later."

"Sure," I say easily. "Sorry for prying. Do you have any music in here?"

"In the glove compartment."

"Thanks," I say with a smile. I pull out her music and sort through it until I find something cheerful. I pop a CD into the player, and techno fills the car.

Rose laughs. "Of course. Of course."

I don't mind though—I'm just glad she's smiling.

We stop at a restaurant around five. We have about two hours to get to Seattle, and Rose estimates we'll be there in about one. "But it won't be a problem," she insists. "We can look around Seattle. Plus, traffic will probably be really bad by then. We might only barely get there on time."

"I'm sure," I say doubtfully.

Rose smiled, and I saw some of the sadness that graced her mother's face appear in her eyes. "Trust me," she said simply, and a wrinkle appeared in her forehead, as though she hated that phrase more than anything else.

-  
We arrived in Seattle at six, but don't make it to the stage Muse will be performing at until six-thirty. Rose throws me an I-told-you-so look when we hand the security guard our tickets, and he directs us to our seats. We watch the opening band set their stuff up.

As people start to fill the room, the anticipation becomes tangible. I keep remembering watching an episode of Scooby-Doo, when the fog is so thick, Scooby cuts out a doughnut-shape and takes a bite. I literally feel the excitement pressing down on me, filling me. I think, if I had a knife, I too could cut a doughnut-shape of excitement, and take a bite. Geez, imagine the sugar high _that _would bring.

At exactly seven o'clock, the opening band begins their performance. They sing about love lost and found, about cheating girlfriends, and absent parents.

"They're really good," I comment to Rose, swaying with the crowd during one of their softer songs. "Who are they, anyway?"

"I think they said their name was Between the Twilights. Something like that. They're just some local people, but yeah, they are good. And lucky, to perform with Muse!"

"Thanks you guys!" the lead singer yells into the mic, beaming widely. "Remember to check out our EP at the booth during the intermission! We got one more song for you, and then Muse will be up!"

Cue screaming, myself and Rose included.

I giggle, giddy. "We're such fangirls."

"And proud of it," Rose agrees, hip-checking me.

When the song ends, Rose and I scream, clapping loudly for the band. "Remember to buy the EP!" the singer yells again.

Between the Twilights starts picking up their equipment as the Muse groupies start loading the stage. After about five minutes, the stage is locked and loaded. The murmuring of fans swells into yelling and cheering for Muse, and then, Matt Bellamy jumps onto the stage, greeting the crowd ecstatically before bursting into song.

"Peace will arise and tear us apart!" Rose and I screamed along with the other countless Muse fans.

Somehow, we still managed to hear Matt's voice, and I swear, I hit cloud nine at the sound of it.

Am I seriously here? At a _Muse _concert?

I think I could faint from joy.

"You'll make us want to die!"

During the intermission, Rose and I go out of the concert area to the concession stands. Rose buys lemonade, while we animatedly talk about the band.

When we decide to go to the bathroom, we notice a sign—no alcoholic beverages in the restrooms. We see a woman, apparently holding a beer for someone in the bathroom. She sways slightly, occasionally sipping from both the cans in her hands, though she chose one more than the other—presumably her own beer.

We struggle to hold in our laughter, and as soon as we slip past her and into the bathroom, we burst into a fit of giggles.

"Did you see her face?" Rose chokes out between giggles.

I snicker, remembering the content and dreamy expression on the woman's face. "Totally wasted," I agree.

Still chuckling, we look for some free stalls. A lot of girls fill the room, chatting animatedly as they fix their make up and wash their hands.

After washing our hands ourselves, we slip out of the room and look at the Muse products. Rose somehow talks me into buying a messenger bag with Muse scrawled across it, along with lyrics to a medley of their songs printed all over it.

"It's only...fifty dollars! That's only half of what Esmé gave you!" she informs me cheerfully, as she sorts through baseball caps. "What do you think about this one?" She doesn't wait for my answer, buying it without a second thought and pulling it over her head.

I giggle and purchase the bag, holding it reverently against my chest. "Ooh! Let's go look at that!" I say, pointing at the booth that Between the Twilights had set up to sell tee shirts and EPs.

The lead singer is talking to everyone that walks over, laughing and making jokes. He's clearly charismatic, and admittedly, not bad to look at. He isn't as attractive as, say, Edward, but he isn't ugly, either. As cute as Jasper, for sure.

We wander over to the booth, and pick up one of the EPs. The cover is a sepia-toned picture of the band sitting around on a lakeshore. One of them has their eyes closed and his face turned towards the light. His forehead is crinkled, as though he's in pain. It was a heart-breaking expression, and I let out a sigh without realizing it.

I looked up into Rose's eyes. She had that sympathetic look on her face, as well.

One of the members came to stand behind the counter in front of us. I look up at him, and see that he's the heartbroken one on the cover. He smiles sadly at me, seeing the knowledge in my eyes. "It's 6.99, if you're interested."

I smile. "Yeah. But only if you sign it."

A real smile crosses his face. "My first autograph! I'm honored."

I laugh. "What instrument do you play?"

"Bass," he says, signing the EP with a flourish. "So most people don't want my autograph. They want his." He gestures to the lead singer.

"Can you break a fifty?" I ask, digging in my bag for money.

"Sure." He walks to the moneybox and returns with 43.01.

I take the EP and hand him the penny. "Keep it for luck!"

He smiles impishly. "Thank you, kind lady! Could I possibly interest you in a tee shirt, or any other merchandise?"

"Maybe. But I, of course, would require signatures."

"Well, as long as you're paying, I think I could handle that."

"Excellent, my good man! Show me what you got!"

Rose elbows me as he grabs a shirt and a wristband. "You are _so _flirting with him!"

"Am not! I'm just being friendly. Look how sad he is!" I wave the EP in her face. "Besides, I don't even know his name."

"Flirting," she reiterates, but she grows quiet when he turns back to us.

"How about this one? And what size?" He shows me the shirt. It's black and has a grayscale picture of the band on it, with the name written beneath the picture in white. I notice that he's in the picture holding his bass, whereas another guy is holding his drumsticks and looking out the window, and the singer is listening to music with big black sound-canceling headphones on, resting his back against the couch. The other guy is sprawled on the couch.

I love it. "Yes, and small."

He signs it, and then hands me the shirt. "Fifteen dollars, ma'am. Well, 14.99, if you want to keep your penny this time."

"Oh, that's okay. You can have it. What about the wristband?"

"Well, I can't really sign it...but it's two dollars."

"Does that mean 1.99?"

"No, it means it's two dollars."

"Breaking the mold. Nice. I applaud you guys." I hand him a twenty.

"Your donation is appreciated," he intones seriously as he gives me my change. "Thanks for supporting Between the Twilights." Conspiratorially, he adds, "Chris makes us say that." He pointed at the laughing lead singer.

I laugh. "Thank you...um...What's your name?"

"Evan."

"Thank you, Evan," I reaffirm. "Remember me when you're winning your first Grammy, okay? At least when you go multi-platinum," I tease.

"Sure...uh..."

"Bella."

"Right. When I give my acceptance speech...Or maybe I'll write a thank you to you in the next album."

"Even better; then it's in print for all to see!"

"Thank you, Bella. You made my day."

"Goodie. Bye, Evan."

"Bye."

Walking away, I put my new merch into the muse bag and sling it over my shoulders.

Rose is silent next to me, apparently thinking. She lets out a shaky laugh. "You were flirting."

"Was not," I say with a pout.

"Whatever, Bella. You were," she replies, and I get the feeling that something is bothering her. And it's probably me.

"I was being friendly," I say as we head back to our seats. "Are you okay?"

We're walking down the stairs now, and the woman in front of us stumbles slightly. She's wearing four-inch stilettos, and is clearly teetering on the stairs.

We exchange a knowing look and try-again-not to giggle. Someone had a few too many drinks. Hopefully, she's not as naturally clumsy as I am. Otherwise, she might take a few people out when she falls down the stairs.

Luckily for the people walking in front of her, she makes it to her seat without incident.

When we get to our seats, Muse is coming back onto the stage, and Matt greets everyone again. His British accent saturates his words, and I can't help but scream with everyone else when he announces the beginning again.

Rose screams, too, caught up in the mindset of the crowd. But there's something off about her exuberance, tainting my own with worry.

Even so, it's easy for us to get swept into the overall joy and sing along to the songs, lost in the music.

On the ride home, Rose is quiet. It's late, but we're still wide awake, since we woke up so late.

I put in the CD I bought, and Chris' voice floats out of the speaker. The song is loud and angry-the one about discovering an unfaithful girlfriend.

Rose flinches, but doesn't comment. After a minute, she skips the song, and an acoustic one starts playing.

"Shh, honey, I'll be back soon  
I'm just going away for a while.  
Your momma says I gotta go  
Now let me see your pretty smile.

Sweetie, I'll be back soon  
Don't you worry.  
I'll just go and stay with a friend  
Her last name's Murray.

It's not you, baby, it's us  
We're just taking a break  
But I'll come see you  
I promise, next week."

Chris' voice trails off, and the acoustic guitar takes over the melody.

Rose pulls over and puts the car in park. "Turn it off," she demands hoarsely.

Horrorstruck, I obey. I watch my best friend as she begins to sob uncontrollably, her shoulder shaking and tears spilling onto her jeans. I slide across the seats to pull her into my arms. "Oh, Rosie. What's wrong?"

"Daddy," she hiccupped.

"What about him, Rose?" I coaxed her gently, stroking her hair.

"He...he...he hurts me. He hurts Mom."

"He hurts you?"

Rose nodded. "He doesn't come home sometimes. He goes and stays with his secretary, because he's...working."

"Where does he hurt you, Rose? Does Jasper know?"

"He hurts Jasper, too," Rose whispers.

"Where does he hurt you, Rose?"

"N-no. Not... He doesn't love us anymore, Bella. He said he did. He said he would stop. But he didn't...He lied, Bella. Why aren't we enough?"

"Enough for what, Rose?"

"Why does he need someone else? Why does he hurt us?" Rose is more angry than sad now, and she's pushing against me. "Why aren't we enough?"

"You aren't enough? Enough for what?"

"Why does he cheat on Mom?" she blubbered at last.

"Oh, Rose," I murmur, rubbing her back. "Is that how he hurts you?"

She nods, and pulls closer to me.

I didn't know what to do—I just kept rubbing her back and whispering, "Shh, it's okay, baby."

After a few minutes, her sobs subside, and she says softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to unload all of that on you."

"Sweetie, that's what best friends are for. Do you want me to drive?"

She shakes her head. "I'll be fine." Her words are firm, but it sounds like she's reassuring herself more than she's reassuring me.

"Are you sure?"

She looks at me carefully. "No."

"Let me drive," I say, just as firmly as she.

She shrugs, and slides across the seat. I climb over her and adjust the drivers seat to my height. Rose is much taller than me. She presses the eject button and my CD pops out. She slides it back into the cover and puts it in my bag.

We drive in silence for ten minutes, and then Rose speaks.

"I'm sorry for flipping out at you for flirting with Evan."

I roll my eyes and open my mouth to speak, but Rose cuts me off.

"You _were _flirting, Bella. Just hear me out, okay?"

I nod. "Go ahead."

She sighs. "It just bugs me...I mean, you weren't even being unfaithful, but it reminded me too much of my dad." She sucks in a breath. "I hate that Jasper went to the movies with Alice tonight. Again, he's not being unfaithful, but it strikes too close to...what could happen."

"Rose," I breathe. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean..."

"I know." She looks away, her gaze turning to the trees rushing by.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence. Our happiness from seeing Muse is dashed by Rose's revelation.

But I'm glad she told me. I'm glad she trusted me enough to tell me.

When we arrive back at Rose's house, she stiffens in her seat. "He's here," she says quietly.

Somehow, I know she's referring to her father. "How do you know?"

Wordlessly, she points the lit window. "They're fighting." She pauses and turns to look at me. "Do you think Charlie would mind if I spent the night?"

"No. Do you want me to come in with you?"

"No," she says quickly. "Do you have something I can sleep in?"

"Yeah, sure. But nothing that would fit you for tomorrow."

"That's okay. I'll just wear this again."

"Won't they worry if you don't come home?"

She scoffs and shakes her head. "No. I doubt they'll even notice I'm not there. Too busy fighting for that," she mutters, and hides her face in the darkness.

I can still see that she's embarrassed, though. "Hey," I say softly. "I've been there. Don't worry about what I'll think."

She nods slowly. She looks up at me, eyes dull. "Thanks, Bella."

Quietly, we get out of the car. I throw my Muse bag into the bed of my truck as we walk by, and it falls next to my bag of clothes from the day before. I slide my key into the passenger side and unlock it for Rose. She opens the door, not bothering to be quiet any more. She closes it, not gently, but not slamming it, either.

Wincing, I walk around the truck and unlock my door as well, slipping into the seat. I close the door carefully, and turn the key in the ignition. The truck comes to life loudly, and I flinch.

Rose stares forward as I back out of the driveway, her eyes never leaving the lit up window. "We're fine," she announces as I start to drive forward. "They didn't hear anything."

I slide my hand across the cab and takes Rose's, squeezing it gently. I don't say a word, as the tears slide down her cheeks, a sorrowful reminder that her parents don't care if she's home or not.

-  
A/N: The song Bella and Rose sing along to is Space Dementia. All songs used are there for a reason. I swear it's not filler.  
Similarly, the mentioning of drunk women is not filler. It has a purpose (TOTALLY SYMBOLISM!) Just clearing that up...and it's based off personal experience. Though not a Muse concert (I wish!), a Journey and Def Leppard concert. (They're also awesome, btw. Check 'em out!)  
Same with Evan. I actually got carried away when I wrote that bit, but then I figured out a way I could use it to my advantage. He won't reappear, but he's there for a reason. Go me!  
I wrote the song about the dad leaving, which is probably really clear because of how lame it is. I'm not good with rhyming every line, or doing the whole syllable thing. But I figure it's good enough.


	8. Doubt

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. I also don't own The Parent Trap, High School Musical, Confessions of a Shoppaholic, the Apple iPhone, Ramen Noodles (though, admit it, everyone loves them),

Chapter 7 - Doubt

"I don't know what's right or what's real anymore  
And I don't know how I'm meant to feel anymore  
And when do you think it will all be come clear?  
'Cause I'm being taken over by the fear." - The Fear, Lily Allen

**Sunday, February 22, 2009**

Rose and I wake up around eight the next day, though we don't get up until nine. We talk quietly about the concert, deliberately keeping our thoughts away from our different sets of parents.

Finally, her curiosity gets the best of her, and she asks, "You mentioned that you've been there with parents. What happened there?"

"Oh, well you know that they're divorced," I say simply. "They used to fight all the time, so I quit inviting my friends over. And since my dad slept on the couch most of the time, I didn't invite my friends to spend the night. I'm actually surprised you were brave enough to have me over...I wouldn't have been."

"Well, only because my dad hardly ever comes home," Rose admits nervously.

"Man...that's horrible. I never had to go through that."

"Yeah, but it's better when he's not. I try to avoid him when he is home." She changed the subject quickly. "What happened when they got divorced?"

"My mom got custody of me when they finally split. I can't say I was surprised they got divorced, but I was furious that I had to leave all of my friends. If my mom wanted to live in the desert, I figured that was her own deal. I didn't understand why they didn't even consider what I wanted."

"What did you want?" Rose asks.

"I wanted to stay in Forks, of course. I wanted my parents to work their problems out without fighting. I didn't want them to get a divorce. They just fought over stupid things that could have been solved if one of them had been less selfish. I hated that they were fighting. It was like they forgot about me, or how their screaming might make me feel." I let out a strangled laugh. "But I guess that's normal."

Rose sighed and nodded. "I feel that way, too."

We had another minute of silence. then, Rose said, "My parents are probably going to get a divorce soon."

I nod, shifting on the bed slightly. "I hate that."

"Yeah, well, me too." She looks down at her hands. "Bella?" she asks quietly. "How did you handle it when your mom started seeing other people?"

"I hated it," I admit. "I had to act like it didn't bother me, but of course it did. But Mom and I were already on shaky ground, since we'd just made up from a huge fight. I didn't want to start another one. But it was horrible. I guess I still hoped that she and Dad would get back together. You know, like Parent Trap. I thought Mom wanted that, too. And it felt like Phil was her way of giving up on Dad, even though, in retrospect, she'd given up on him years ago. And I didn't like it."

Rose moves so she's lying down. She stares at the ceiling as she speaks. "Is it normal for me to hate my dad?"

"Most teenagers hate their parents," I point out.

She shakes her head. "No. I mean, I really hate him. I hate that he cheats on Mom but still expects to come home to a loving, blissfully ignorant family. I hate that Mom isn't enough for him. I hate that my brother and I aren't enough to keep him home. I hate when he expects us to be his perfect little children, but gets defensive and pissed when I ask when he'll be home again. I hate him. Really."

"No," I admit. "That's not normal." I suck in a breath, a little wary of what I'll say next. "I don't want to go all self-righteous on you, but it's not good to hold grudges or harbor hate. I'm not saying you should just drop everything he's done and give him a hug and kiss...but maybe...I don't know. Don't forget, but forgive."

Rose stares at me, disbelief clear in her eyes.

I clear my throat awkwardly. "This 'What Would Jesus Do?' moment was brought to you by Isabella Swan..."

Rose cracks a smile and bursts into laughter. "Okay, okay. I'll think about it. I mean you're right. Hating is no fun."

"Jesus normally is right," I say. "I'm just the messenger."

"Okay, Ms. WWJD, why aren't you in church right now?"

I shrug. "Dad's not a church person."

"So? You have your own truck...drive yourself."

I shook my head. "It's a different denomination." I think.

"Yeah, but church is church."

"You've never been to church, have you?"

"No..."

"Every denomination is different. People interpret the Bible differently, so it all comes out to completely different belief systems. Besides," I say hesitantly. "When I was in Phoenix I went to church to avoid my mom."

"You avoided your mom?"

"Well, yeah. I didn't even talk to her for the first few months we moved to Phoenix. I spent as much time as I could away from the house. I took extra classes and went to church. I slept at home and lived at school and the library...Going to church was just a way of changing the scenery."

"You're a bad Christian," Rose says, giggling.

"Am not!"

"You are! You're not going to church because you're lazy, and you only went to church to avoid your mom! Bad Christian!"

"At least I go," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Not anymore," Rose points out, snickering.

I can't help but smile at her lightheartedness. It's much better then the gloom brought on by unfaithful parents. "But," I tease. "I still live my life like I'm going to church...I just don't go."

"Bella," Rose says with mock seriousness. "We're going to Hell."

"Drat. Do you think they'll play the High School Musical soundtrack all the time?"

"Probably. I think that's why it's called Hell..."

"You know, I don't mind that one song-The Boys are Back in Town, or whatever. It's kind of cute when little Troy and Chad are dancing around."

"That was my favorite part! Except I didn't understand it."

"Me neither." For awhile, it's like this. We joke around and don't think about what's really bothering us. Everyone needs a respite sometimes. It's just not always available. But here, among friends...it's almost like another world, where we're free...free from everything.

Around noon, we get up and head downstairs. Rose ends up borrowing a pair of gym shorts and a tee-shirt, and I change into sweats and a tee.

I make lunch-grilled cheese sandwiches and creamy chicken noodle soup.-Comfort food, at least, the healthy kind.

While I work, Rose calls Jasper to see if her dad was still at home. "Yippee," she mutters sarcastically. "Have they said anything yet?" She pauses, listening for his answer. "Of course." She sighs. "Tell Mom I'm okay, and that I'll be home around five." She listens to Jasper's response, and then laughs. "You shouldn't say stuff like that. She's _your _girlfriend." Then she turned to me. "Wanna talk to Jasper?"

"Sure," I said, taking the phone from her outstretched hand. As I did so, Rose came to stand next to me, watching me as I talked and flipped her sandwich in the skillet. "Hey, Jazz."

"Hey." He let out a sigh, and then asked, "How was the concert?"

"Oh, it was awesome. Matt Bellamy is just...oh, man. I wish you had been there!"

"Yeah, yeah, me, too."

Jasper seems distracted. I feel the corner of my mouth turn down. Sliding the sandwich from the skillet and onto a plate, I say, "Jasper? What's really bothering you?"

"Hmm? Nothing. I just...I just missed you."

There's this great sinking feeling in my gut, like he's letting me down somehow. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

"What? No. It was just lonely without you," he reassures me, and I feel the butterflies in my stomach start to calm down. Why judge? Why suspect? There's nothing wrong.

"But you went to the movies with Alice, right? How was that?" I ask, trying to cheer him up.

"It was okay. Alice like the movie."

"What did you see?"

"Confessions of a Shoppaholic," he says, and laughs. "The perfect movie for her."

"Oh, that looked cute. Was it any good?"

I could practically hear him shrug over the phone. "I don't know. Bella, I'm a guy. It was a romantic comedy. They all seem the same to me."

I laugh. "Point taken." Unworried now, I hand Rose a bowl of the soup, slide my sandwich onto a plate, and begin pouring my own soup into a bowl. Jasper must just be acting strange because his dad's at home.

We chat idly for a few minutes as I let my soup cool.

"Well, I'll let you go," Jasper says quietly. He's still pretty subdued, but by now I'm convinced it has everything to do with Mr. Hale, and nothing to do with me.

"Okay. Love you!"

"You, too," Jasper murmurs.

It doesn't escape my notice that he leaves out the 'love', but then I chide myself for being paranoid. Really, just because he went out with friends, I'm all worked into a frenzy. "Bye," I say softly.

"Bye." And then he hangs up.

For some reason, the butterflies are back, only they're acting more like wasps now, and I suddenly don't really want the food in front of me. For some reason, my conversation with Jasper is reminding me of the first time my mom brought Phil home, or the way Rose's eyes looked when she demanded to know why she wasn't good enough.

When my mom decided to remarry, I convinced her to invite Dad. "For closure," I said, but it was really because I was scared that when Phil became my step dad, I'd have to let go of my real dad. I needed reassurance that he was still mine.

It was awkward and probably broke the status quo, but then, Mom had always been known for doing that.

Even stranger, Dad came and stayed with us. He and Mom skirted around each other by taking turns with me.

When I wasn't being fitted for my Maid of Honor dress, or picking out bouquets with Mom, Dad took me out for ice cream and pizza, or out to a park. It was exactly the reassurance we both needed, and only further strengthened our relationship.

But one of the clearest memories I have of that time is at the wedding, watching my dad watch my mom say "I do."

I remember the look in his eyes. It was filled with such pain and horror. Desperation. It was awful to see, yet, I couldn't look away. It was clear, in that moment, that my dad still loved my mom, and was completely aware that she had already moved on.

In that moment, it was as though I had stepped into my father's body, and I felt keenly how much pain he must have been going through. I felt a deep sense of loss, and suddenly wished that I hadn't invited him. Wasn't it enough that he heard about the marriage? Why had I insisted he be there? Suddenly, my own selfish reasons didn't seem so important. I should have known he would always be my daddy. I should have known.

"Bella?" Rose's voice brings me out of my thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine." I pick anxiously at the sandwich, now cold and not nearly as good. The soup is better; not too hot, not too cold. In an attempt to save my sandwich, I dip it in the soup to heat it up. "Sorry, I just got distracted."

But Rose knows me too well by now. "Tell the truth. What were you thinking about?"

"I did just get distracted...but if you want to know, I was thinking about how my dad must have felt at my mom's second wedding."

"Why were you thinking of _that_?"

For a long moment, I can't speak. "I...I don't know."

**Monday, March 2, 2009**

"Here you go, Mrs. Murphy," I say cheerfully. "That's the last one!"

Mrs. Murphy visibly slumps in her seat. "Thank goodness," she murmurs. "Now maybe I can get some sleep."

I laugh with her, and move the completed spreads into the network folder. "It's on the network."

"Two days before deadline," she murmurs. "Unheard of...Bella, you're a real lifesaver, you know that?"

I smile easily. "It was no problem. I enjoyed it."

"This book is going to be great, Bella. Just fabulous."

"Yeah, they did a great job, didn't they?" I say, fondly thinking of my great friends on the yearbook staff.

"You, too, silly."

"But it was mostly them. They did all of the work-I just put it together."

"True, but don't count yourself out. Besides...I think you're looking at a good chance of being next year's editor," Mrs. Murphy says.

I shake my head instantly. "Don't say that. I've only been here a month and a half."

"Which is long enough to show me your fantastic work ethic," Mrs. Murphy points out. "Now, get out of here before I start crying."

I pause. "Crying...?"

"I cry every year," she says. "It's like a baby being born." She sniffs and wipes her eyes a little.

Smiling at her antics, I leave the room. "Bye, Mrs. Murphy," I call. Humming quietly to myself, I make my way to my truck. I have a bit of homework to do, so I won't be able to go to Emmett's tonight. Plus, Dad told me he was having some friends over for dinner, so I should probably put forth a bit more effort for dinner tonight.

In the truck, I turn on my radio, letting whatever station Rosalie had set it to play. Even though she'd jokingly chosen rap again. At least the bass was decent.

At home, I write my English essay and start making enchiladas. Hopefully Dad's friends like Mexican.

While they're in the oven, I sit in the living room, checking my e-mail on my iPhone. Suddenly I get a text from Jasper. I start to smile, but frown when I began reading it. "Hey, bells," it reads. "Srry, cn't go w/u 2 the movies/dinner on fri. Ttyl."

I glare at his stupid shorthand message. This happened all last week. Jasper set up several dates with me, but canceled for one reason or another each time. He always had reasons up until now, and he'd told me in person. This is a new low-texting, without a reason, and he didn't even text "ily".

I throw the phone down onto the cushion next to me, annoyed. How is this even possible? Jasper is my _Soul Mate_. Shouldn't he know I'd be offended by this?

Then I sigh, instantly feeling guilty. Jasper might be my _Soul Mate,_ but that doesn't mean he's perfect.

The door opens and Dad yells, "Bella! We're here!"

Forcing a smile on my face, I stand to greet them. "Hello," I murmur. I give Dad a hug, and he introduces his friends.

"This is Billy Black and his son Jake, Harry and Sue Clearwater, and their children, Leah and Seth." Turning to them, he says, "This is my daughter, Bella." To me, he says, "We met a while after you and Renee left."

"Hello, Bella," Mrs. Clearwater says, stepping forward and pulling me into a hug. "It's so wonderful to meet you."

"'Sup?" Jake asks coolly, barely bothering to look at me.

Leah snickers and Jake turns red beneath his dark skin. "Shut up," he hisses.

Smirking, Leah nods to me. "Hey, Bella."

Seth isn't so calm. He smiles warmly and pulls me into a bear hug. "Hi!" he exclaims.

I can't help but laugh. He reminds me of Emmett. "Hi." The timer for the oven goes off, and I disentangle myself, explaining that I need to get the food.

I made a lot of extra food, but now I'm not sure if there's enough. Seth and Jake are huge-not that they're fat, just really tall. If I'd known I was serving teenage boys, I would have made more. Thinking on my feet, I grab a can of black beans out of the pantry and pour them in a bowl. I put them in the microwave for a minute, and return to scavenging the pantry for Mexican food that I could make quickly.

All I can find is chips and salsa, and by this time the enchiladas are cooling, so I hurry to bring everything to the table. I walk with care to avoid a fall, and luckily get everything there without dropping it. Except for the chips, which is okay, all things considered. I don't think I damaged them at all, which is pretty good for me.

"Okay," I call. "Dinner's ready."

At the table, Leah sits next to me and compliments my cooking. "Can you teach me?" she asks. "I'm horrible at it and I start at the university next year. I don't really want to live off of Ramen Noodles. Mom tried to teach me, but I just couldn't get it. She goes to fast and starts speaking in our native tongue."

"I do not," Mrs. Clearwater says, frowning.

"You so do. I can't keep up with you," she teases.

"I'd be happy to," I say, smiling. "Where are y'all from?" Hanging out with Jasper and Rose was really starting to affect my speech..."Y'all"? What's next? "Funna"?

"The rez," Seth says, "Down by La Push beach."

"Oh, I love the tide pools there," I say excitedly.

"You should come down sometime," Leah says. "All the girls down there hate me."

"Of course they don't, sweetheart," Mr. Clearwater says. "Where would you get an idea like that?"

"Probably because they-"

"Jake," Leah says suddenly, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Hold your tongue."

Apparently, Jake was a drama queen, because he stuck his tongue out and grabbed hold of it.

We all laugh.

I catch Seth throwing a glance at Leah, and then relaxing. Apparent crisis averted.

After dinner, Leah volunteers to help me with the dishes, and everyone else shuffles into the living room to catch something on the tube.

"...and then he crashes into the tree," Leah finishes, laughing loudly.

I can't help but laugh along. "How long ago was that?"

"About a month, but if you ask him now, he'll tell you he's a pro. He still sucks, though." Her voice drops suddenly. "He has a huge crush on you, you know."

"Who? Jake? No way," I say, rolling my eyes.

"He does. I've known him forever, and he's totally crushing on you."

I bite my lip. "He seems really cool, and all, but I have a boyfriend."

"Oh?" Leah says. Her tone is somehow knowing, like she's aware of something I'm not.

"Yes," I say, suddenly feeling defensive. "His name's Jasper."

"Hale?"

"Mmhmm."

"Hmmm..."

"What?" I snap.

"Nothing really. You just sounded a little bit unsure when you said you had a boyfriend," she says nonchalantly as she dries a plate.

I attack the next plate with a bit of added fervor. "He's just been...Ugh! He's been disappointing me lately, is all."

"Oh?" she says, in exactly the same tone.

Lightly, I smack her arms, getting them a bit soapy. "Stop saying that. I think it's just his family situation. Rosalie's messed up by it, too."

"Oh?"

"Leah!" I say, exasperated.

She cackles and dries the last plate. "Okay, okay. Sorry. I couldn't resist." Hesitantly she glances towards the living room. "Can we skip out on the boring adult talk?"

I shrug. "Sure."

We slip silently through the living room and head up to my room.

"So what's really eating you?" Leah asks.

I bite my lip and take a seat on my bed. Leah plops down next to me, and leans back on her hands. I almost don't answer her, but at last, I hand her my phone with the text he sent me earlier.

"Well," she says after reading it, "That bites and all, but it doesn't really seem like a big deal."

I explain the rest of the situation. "It's probably nothing, but I have this really bad feeling. But I'm probably just paranoid...right?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. A woman's intuition is normally right, so..."

"You aren't making me feel better."

"I'm just saying. It sounds like you're feeling a lot like I did when Sam was cheating on me," she practically whispers the last part.

"Sam?" I repeat.

"Yeah," she says. "I remember that feeling. I didn't really understand it, and I refused to believe anything was wrong. Turns out he fell in love with my cousin." She sighs. "It's probably not the same thing for you."

By now, I was almost in a panic. "But...what if it is that? Leah, he's supposed to be the one. My _Soul Mate_. A _Soul Mate _wouldn't do that."

Leah whistles. "You're really dependent on him aren't you?"

For a second I feel like I've been slapped, and I stare at her, almost angry.

She winces. "Sorry, that came out wrong-this is why I only have guy friends," she sighs.

"Crap," I murmur. "You're right."

"I know," she moans. "I'm abrasive."

I blink. "Not about that. I mean, maybe. But whatever, it doesn't matter to me. I meant that you're right about my dependency. How could I have sunk this low?" I mutter, more to myself than to her.

She shrugs. "I think that's called love."

"Sure," I mutter. "But the cheating thing...That a can't be right." I'm more confident, now. "Jasper, he'd never do that."

"Okay. You'd know better than me."

"But you do know him, don't you?" I ask, curious.

"Yeah...not well. He came into the shop yesterday, smiling like a maniac. He said something about having the best girlfriend ever. Must have been you."

"The shop?"

"Yeah, I work at a mechanic shop. He came in with his dad's car."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure there's nothing wrong. I'm just hormonal, or something," I say, suddenly reassured. The nervousness that's been coiled in my stomach all week suddenly relents, and I smile.

"Sure. So, about those cooking lessons..."

A/N: Short chapter. But that's where I feel it should end.  
If you haven't figured out what's going on, you have a serious logic issue.  
Beta volunteers? Message me! Thanks to Nichi Nara for beta'ing this chapter! Love you!


	9. Devastation

Special thanks to my BETA, Nichi Nara! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Or Lean Cuisine, Hamburger Helper, Tuna Helper, Fired Up! (BTW, I've never seen it, so I'm just making an assumption that it's stupid. If you liked it, no offense...), Sonny With a Chance/Chad Dylan Cooper, Ramen Noodles, No Doubt/Return of Saturn/Ex-Girlfriend, Etnies, Metallica, Rascal Flatts, Soulja Boy Tell'em, Guns and Roses, Vampire Weekend, Guitar Hero, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare, Martha Stewart, Volvo, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
**-  
Chapter 8 - Devastation**

**Friday, March 6, 2009**

Leah gazes at the bowl in front of her in deep concentration. "Okay, can you go over that again?"

I laugh. "Which part?"

"All of it."

"Leah, Leah," I say patiently, "It's just a simple chicken salad. All you do is cut everything, and drop it into the bowl. Then, mix."

"But...the chicken? How did you cook it?"

"Just pop it in the oven, okay? Very simple."

"You know, I think I'll just stick with Lean Cuisine and Hamburger Helper," Leah says dolefully, setting the knife down.

"Negative," I say. "You'd have to brown the hamburger."

"Okay, Tuna Helper. Whatever."

"Are you sure you're capable of opening a can?" I tease.

"Bella!" Leah snaps, frowning. She punches me lightly. "When you agreed to do this, I didn't ask you to be mean the whole time."

"That's a bonus," I say sweetly, smiling.

Leah frowns, but I can see the corner of her lips turning upward. "Anyway, before you dis me again, I wanted to ask you something."

"Shoot," I say, setting down the knife I'd been slicing the tomatoes with.

"So, um...this guy asked me out today."

"And," I demand, leaning forward and setting my knife down. "What did you say?"

"I said yes. But-"

I squeal, cutting her off. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tightly.

Leah laughs. "Whoa, there, partner. The thing is, he has a girlfriend."

"You jest," I gasp, stepping back. "What's he doing asking you out?"

"It's a double date. Sort of. He said he was going to the movies with his girlfriend, and wanted to know if I could come, too. I asked if that wouldn't be awkward, and he told me to bring someone. A boyfriend, or a friend."

"But you don't have a boyfriend."

"I know, and so does he. He really emphasized friend...So do you want to come?" she blurted.

"Wait, what?" I ask in confusion.

"Look, I really like this guy. We've been friends for a while, and he tells me a lot of things. Like that his girlfriend totally pisses him off most of the time. They're going to break up soon. So I don't want to bring a guy. I want it to be clear that I'm available," she explains.

"That's some warped logic," I say with a sigh. "Okay. Who is this guy, anyway?"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! His name is Ammon and he's a _really _nice guy."

"When are we going, and what are we seeing?" I question.

"We're going tomorrow at six, and we're going to see Fired Up!," she says cheerfully. "Thank you so much, Bella..."

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter.

For a moment, Leah watches me as I go through the steps again, and then breaks in with, "How are things with you and your old flame?"

I blink, pausing in the middle of grating cheese. "Old flame?" I question dubiously.

"Jasper."

"He's not my old flame. He's my current flame." I frown. "That sounded weird."

Leah rolls her eyes. "Just answer the question, silly."

"You're being silly, not me."

"Bella," she says, shooting me a look, and taking the cheese from me. "Like this?" she asks, sidetracked briefly.

"Yeah, only, hold the grater over the bowl," I say, adjusting her hands slightly. Off-handedly, I remark, "Well, of course, today was supposed to be our date to the movies. I'm still a little ticked about that. Mostly because he hasn't even given me a reason why, and he's kind of avoiding me."

"Is he, Bella? Is he _really_?" Leah asks, doing her best to impersonate Chad Dylan Cooper.

"The fact that you watch that show...you got a lot of cool points for that," I comment. "I'm not really sure. I think I may have figured something out. You know when a couple first start dating, they can't stay away from each other?"

"Yeah," Leah says, setting down the grater and popping grapes off of the vine and into the salad bowl.

"I think I got used to that phase, and Jasper's just moved out of it a lot faster than I am. But that doesn't explain the cancellations."

"You said something was up with his family. Maybe they're bringing stuff up with out telling him until later."

I nod noncommittally. The truth is, I asked Rose about it earlier this week. She said she didn't know anything about why he was canceling on me. She'd also said he'd been acting moody lately, something that I'd noticed as well. I hardly knew what to think anymore. I don't really feel like this is my business to tell, even if Leah is rapidly becoming a very good friend. "Maybe," I say finally.

"Voila!" Leah announces suddenly. "What'cha think?"

"Looks mouthwatering. I pronounce you the salad making queen." I tapped her shoulders with the flat of my knife.

"I thank you, majesty," Leah says, smiling.

"Keep this up, and you'll make it through college, easy."

"I really hope you're right, because Ramen is definitely not going to do good for my hips."

I glance at her sidelong and shake my head. Leah is as beautiful as Rosalie, but in a different way. Where Rose is slender, Leah is lean and toned. She's the last person who needs to worry about her hips. Except for maybe Alice, who's so slight she might as well be anorexic.

"Right," I say doubtfully.

She notices my doubt and sighs. "Well, it isn't healthy. There, is that better?"

I chuckle. "Well, let's enjoy the fruits of our labor. Dad, dinner's ready!"

Dad comes in from the living room and grabs the plates and forks while Leah carries the salad to the table. Over the time I've lived here, we've worked out a system: I cook, and dad sets and clears the table. Sometimes, he even does the dishes. But only when the dishwasher is full.

"Chicken Salad a la Leah," I say, once we're all seated. "Dig in!" While Leah and Dad serve themselves, I say my typical prayer, and then grab some for myself.

"Great job, grasshopper," I comment. "With a bit more practice, you'll be as good as me!"

At this, Leah laughs. "Doubtful. But if you say so."

"Good job, girls," Dad says. "I'm gonna go catch the game, now."

"Okay," we say together, and then laugh.

After loading and starting the dishwasher, Leah grabs her stuff. "Give me a ride home?" she pleads.

"Sure...Do you want me to pick you up for the movie tomorrow?"

"Yes! I hate being stuck with Ammon and Kim. They're annoying together...Mostly, it's her fault, of course, but still. I hate to see it," she says, frowning.

"Right. So I'll pick you up at four thirty?"

"Sounds good."

At her house, she leaps out of the cab, runs around it and kisses my cheek. "See ya tomorrow, chica!"

"Weirdo," I mutter. "Bye." My phone buzzes as I start to head home. "Hello?" I say.

"Hey, beautiful," Jasper's voice murmurs in my ear.

"Oh, hey, Jasper."

"You sound surprised. Should I be jealous?" he teases.

"No. You just haven't called in a while. I'm pleasantly surprised," I answer seriously.

In his voice I can hear his chagrin. "Yeah, and I'm really sorry about that. Are you doing anything tomorrow?"

I sigh. "Yes. I'm going to the movies with Leah so she can convince some guy she's better than his girlfriend." I pause. "Wow, that sounds really bad when I say it out loud."

Jasper laughs, but his chuckle is saturated by...something. I can't identify it. Sadness? Embarrassment? Nervousness? None of those make sense except sadness, and the more I think about it, the more wrong it sounds. What could it be?

"Okay, well, maybe some other time," he offers at last.

"Sure," I say quickly. Truth is, he would have offered me another day specifically two weeks ago. Now, 'maybe some other time'. But at this point, I'll take anything I can get. After all, he did offer to do something with me tomorrow. "Actually," I say hesitantly, "I'm not going to the movies until four. Maybe we could do lunch?"

"Um, sure," Jasper says. But he sounds hesitant.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," I say, exasperated, and admittedly a little hurt.

"Bella, of course I want to," Jasper says.

"But?" I question.

"But nothing. I'll pick you up at eleven thirty, okay?"

"Okay," I say, smiling truly for the first time this week. "I'll see you then."

"Right. Bye, Bella."

"I love you. Bye."

No response except for a click signaling that he's hung up.

The smile on my face morphs into a scowl. Trying to ease my mood, I push play on my CD. Return of Saturn is in the drive, since No Doubt reminds me of Jasper. But instantly from the first song that begins to play I feel a sense of dread. The lyrics echo through the car, just like when Rosalie and Emmett first started dating.

"I kinda always knew I'd end up your ex-girlfriend..."

**Saturday, March 7, 2009**

At lunch, Jasper acts normal, and I wonder again if I'm just being paranoid. I think about asking him for a reassurance, but I'm sort of afraid to.

For one thing, he'll see it as meaning that I don't trust him.

Which I don't.

But beyond that, I'm afraid of his answer. Because if I'm right, and he doesn't care for me anymore, then I'll be completely devastated. Even worse, if he's found some other girl who's better than me, I won't live through it.

It worries me a little that I don't have that explicit trust for him like I did, say, two weeks ago. But then, two weeks ago was when my trust for him exploded. When he went to the movies with Alice.

Since that day, I quit hanging out with Tyler. If it hurt me that much to see Jasper at the movies with a female friend, I don't want to put him through the same thing. Tyler understood, and we're still pretty good friends.

I never really mentioned it to Jasper, but surely he noticed. He had to have. But last week, when he kept canceling on me, I couldn't help but think Alice had something to do with it.

I want to confront him.

But I won't.

I do my homework in the time between lunch and four thirty, and leave a note for Dad telling him to go ahead and order out tonight.

At four, I jump into my truck and swing by Leah's.

"You're early," she tells me.

"Yeah," I agree. "But I want to stop at Wendy's or something."

"Okay. Roll out, trooper."

"Yes'm."

After an hour or so of driving, I pull into a Wendy's and order a chicken sandwich. Leah asks for a bacon cheeseburger, promising to pay me back. Then, we're off again.

Once we arrive at the theatre in Port Angeles and find a parking spot, Leah is on the lookout for her wannabe boyfriend.

"What does he look like?" I ask while buying my ticket.

"Only the most gorgeous guy you'll ever see in your life. A real tall, dark, and handsome type. About six feet tall, bronze-skinned, black shaggy hair, built, and he's got these beautiful brown eyes that are impossible not to get lost in..."

"So...that guy?" I guess gesturing to a guy leaning against the wall and watching Leah intently. A slender Quiluete girl stands next to him, pouting.

"Yes! And that's Kim."

"She seems nice," I say hesitantly.

"Oh, she looks that way...Well, she's not that bad. But she's tactless and rude," Leah says defensively.

"Right. Well, let's go." I hand her her ticket. "You can introduce me."

"'Kay," Leah says, smiling and grabbing my hand. "Come on."

"Hey, Leah," Ammon says, straightening.

"Hi!" she says, cheered beyond any way I'd ever seen her before. "Ammon, this is my very good friend, Bella. Bella, this is Ammon, and this is Kim."

"Hello," I say, smiling warmly. "It's nice to meet you."

Kim smiles coolly. "Nice shoes."

I glance down at my Etnies and wonder if she's serious. "Thanks," I say at last, still unsure. But her eyes show no enmity, so I decide she means no ill will. "I like yours too."

Hers are more feminine ballet flats, and I'm struck by how different she and Leah are. Leah, bouncy and cheerful, lean and almost boyish. But Kim is reserved and quiet, feminine and curvaceous.

"Let's go, then," Ammon says, smiling down at Leah. The pair naturally fall into step beside each other, and a disgruntled Kim walks next to me.

Personally, I can't see any reason Ammon would ditch Kim, except for clearly adoring Leah, which is hard for me to understand, in a way. If he likes her so much, what was he doing with Kim in the first place?

In the movie, Ammon scorns her again by sitting next to Leah.

Kim huffs next to me, and takes a seat.

Then the movie starts, and I can literally feel my brain cells dying. They call this comedy now? Why do I want to see two womanizing fools make out? And lie about it? "Oh, my gosh," I mutter with a groan, and slide low in my seat.

Kim glances at me and smiles slightly. "I have to go to the bathroom," she says. "Wanna come?"

"Please," I say, standing quickly, as a few people laugh at something moronic that one of the characters said.

Once we're out of the theater, I let out a sigh. "Comedy has definitely fallen."

"Agreed. I tried to tell Ammon I didn't want to see it, but he'd already told Leah, so..." Kim shrugs and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She glances at me sideways. "Want to see something else? Shopaholic gets out at the same time as Fired Up!"

"Sounds good," I say, suddenly liking Kim a lot more. Although, my gut clenches at the movie she suggests. The movie Jasper and Alice saw together.

The movie is cute and funny. Typical plotline for a romantic comedy, but the manic shopping was funny.

A thought struck me when Luke confessed his love to Rebecca.

Was I the shopaholic, destined to be with Jasper, or was I the spidery-legged Alicia, destined to miss out?

I slumped in my seat, though this time, Kim didn't notice. (She was texting, not even paying that much attention to the movie.) Does everything have to relate to Jasper?

...I hate movies.

"Where'd you go, Bella?" Leah asks when we meet up outside of the theatre. "Not that I'm complaining, especially since you took _her _with you."

Ammon and Kim are having a hushed argument behind us, which Leah and I do our best to ignore.

I sigh. "Leah, that movie was possibly the dumbest thing I've ever suffered through."

"You were only there for five minutes. It got better," she says defensively.

I cut my eyes at her.

"Okay, it didn't really change. _I_ liked it, though!"

"Good for you." I glance at my watch. "I need to get home and do homework." I turn to Ammon and Kim. "Bye, Kim, Ammon."

But, they're already walking furiously towards Ammon's car. Kim is clearly telling him off for something, and he's reacting defensively.

I wince.

Leah just shakes her head. "It always ends up this way. Don't worry. They'll be fine." In her voice, there's a sense of sadness.

She is totally in love with him; that much is clear. And she hates Kim because of it.

And...she wants them to break up.

I wonder if Alice is the same, and then instantly hate myself for thinking of Alice like that. She's so sweet. There's no way she'd do this to me, let alone Edward.

Leah doesn't have a boyfriend, and she may be someone I like, but she's anything but sweet.

"Well, let's go," she says, still a little sad.

As we're driving out of the parking lot, Leah points out that we're behind Ammon's car.

"Yeah, let's try and keep up," I joke. Leah knows my truck can't go more than fifty.

But for some reason, Ammon's not driving much faster than that. He remains within our line of sight.

After nearly an hour of driving, I see Ammon pulling over.

"What...?" Leah says slowly. "Pull over."

I obey her, curious myself.

As we pull onto the shoulder, the passenger door opens, and Kim jumps out of the car and starts walking away.

Ammon does not follow.

Leah swears. "This is not good."

I resist the urge to ask her if this isn't what she wanted all along anyway. I have a feeling that she wanted the break up to go more smoothly than this.

Kim spots us and walks toward us.

Leah opens the door. "Kim? You okay?"

It's strange. She sounds almost concerned, her body language suggests it, even.

"Bella," Kim says, ignoring Leah. "Could I ride with you?"

I glance at Leah. "Sure."

"Thanks."

Leah jumps out. "Not enough room. I'll go...uh..."

Kim acknowledges her. "It's okay, you know," she says simply, before walking around her and climbing into the cab.

Leah stares at her dumbly, but nods. "Thanks," she says softly.

Kim shrugs. "Hurry, before he leaves you."

I pull back onto the road, after Leah got into the car with Ammon.

"I know what you're thinking, and I'm not an idiot," Kim says suddenly.

I glance at her. "I don't think you're an idiot. I'm amazed you took that so calmly, but I don't think you're stupid."

She hardly acknowledges it. "I mean, do you know what that feels like? I knew he would leave me for her eventually." She swears. "I don't know why I waited so long. I should have...should have..." She wraps her arms around herself. "I didn't care about him that much, but it definitely sucks to be the one dumped. I used to care about him," she continues, almost rambling by now. "But then he met Leah. It was over for me, then, but I didn't want to admit defeat. I still liked him. For a while. But it was hard when he was so obviously finished with me." She swears again and hits her leg with a fist. "I hate him."

I don't say anything, because my situation is hauntingly similar, yet different. How can I say anything? I feel like if I do, it will make it real. And that's the last thing I want.

Through the rest of the ride, we are silent, and Kim does not shed a tear.

I could cry enough for both of us, but for her sake, I don't.

**Thursday, March 12, 2009**

"Bella?" Emmett says, tugging on a strand of my hair. "Are you okay?"

I sit up from my slightly uncomfortable position and look up at him, bleary eyed. "Fine. Just tired."

"Oh. You should get some sleep."

"I'm a junior in AP classes," I groan. "Sleep is nonexistent."

"Well, as long as that's true, how about Guitar Hero after school?"

"Sounds wonderful," I say, with feeling.

"Just us," Emmett proclaims. "Another best friend date."

"Awesome. I can't wait," I tell him happily. This is true. I've been so overstressed, I'm about ready to take a skip day. A 'date' with Emmett is the perfect substitute.

"Oh, Bella, did you hear the news?"

"What news?" I question, yawning widely.

"New Guitar Hero game coming out. Metallica!"

I giggle, remembering the time we spent a whole afternoon giving each other nicknames that related to bands. Emmett had been 'Emmetallica'. "Perfect for you."

"I know. I was just thinking about that! What ever happened to good old Jasper Flatts? Soulja Boy Bell'em?"

I snorted. "Don't forget Guns and Rosalies."

"Of course."

"Ms. Swan. Mr. Cullen. I understand that you have completed your work, but not everyone else is. Please keep your voices down."

Demurely, I apologize to Mr. Varner. Calculus is such a bore.

Emmett hisses, "Varner Weekend."

I try to stop myself from laughing, but can't control it, and lose it.

"Ms. Swan!" Mr. Varner snaps. "Contain yourself!"

I swallow my laughter as best I can, and, still snickering, say, "Sorry."

Mr. Varner scoffs, but returns to typing at his computer.

"How do you even know about Vampire Weekend?" I ask curiously.

"Edward likes them," Emmett says off-handedly. "He likes to listen to them when he's in a good mood. Sometimes."

"I didn't know Edward _could _be in a good mood," I comment.

"That's because...never mind. He's not too bad of a guy. He's just...abrasive."

I gape at Emmett in mock shock. "How do you know what abrasive means?"

He rolls his eyes. "Despite the fact that I act like one, I'm not an idiot."

"Shocking," I mumble sarcastically.

The bell rings, and Emmett jumps up. "YES!" he shouts. "Let's blow this Popsicle stand!" He practically drags me out of the room, and ignores a glare from Mr. Varner.

"Carry me," I moan. "I'm so tired."

Emmett smirks, and scoops me into his arms without warning.

I let out a small shriek. "I wasn't serious," I gasp.

He snickers and hugs me. "Too late. I'm carrying you now."

"You just want to show off your guns..." I mutter.

"Well...yeah. Pretty much."

I smile up at him, amused. "I love you, Emmett."

"Good. I'd be super pissed if you didn't."

I laugh.

"Bella," Rose says cheerfully when we reach the table. "I missed you!"

"I just saw you last block," I mumble.

"And you still look terrible. But, at least we're done with the Yearbook. That's one less thing for you to worry about..."

I beam. "I know, right?"

"Hey, hey, wanna know a secret?" Rose giggled, leaning forward.

"Sure."

"Mrs. Murphy told me who next year's editor will be."

"Oh?" I asked archly.

"Yep."

"Who?"

"Duh, Bella, do you really have to ask? It's Angie! But she also told me that you would be the Designer!"

I beam. Then frown. "Aren't I Designer this year?"

"Unofficially. We didn't have one this year, until you dropped by. Have no fear, Murphy is going to write you a long thank you note in the colophon. So, smiley!"

I smile and nod. "Okay, okay. Oh, by the way, are you doing that thing for Newspaper tonight?" In the time between the completion of the Yearbook of this year and beginning the Yearbook for next year, the Forks Yearbook staff joins the Newspaper staff temporarily.

"Yeah," Rose says with a smile. "Alice and Angie are going to come get me at six."

"Have fun," I smile.

"Bella and I have a hot date," Emmett says jokingly.

Jasper, only now joining us, frowns and curls an arm around my waist. "Back off, man." He leans down and kisses my cheek. "Hey, babe."

"Hey," I say softly. I'm still a little peeved with him for ditching me so frequently, but forgive and forget, right?

"Oh, don't get your britches in a bunch," Emmett says, rolling his eyes. "As if I could ever see Bella as anything more than a best friend...No offense, Bells."

I sigh. "Yeah, yeah. Emmett and I are just hanging out tonight. Guitar hero, Modern Warfare, you know, the usual."

"You play Modern Warfare?" Rose asks doubtfully.

"Dude, yes," I say in mock excitement. Then, more truthfully, I shake my head. "No, but I watch Emmett sometimes. It's not terribly boring."

"You're nicer than I'd ever be," Rose says, watching me speculatively.

I've complained to Rosalie about Jasper a few times. Not frequently, since they're twins and therefore closer than anyone else in the world. But she hadn't been angry, mentioning that she, too, sensed something off about him. "Talk to him about it," she suggested.

But of course I can't. If he treats me so, ah, glibly, then I don't exactly want him to know that he's my everything.

No, not my everything, if Edward is any indication.

Speaking of Edward, I'm much better at blocking him out now. When we aren't together, he doesn't constantly monopolize my thoughts.

Admittedly, I dreamed of him once. But only once, and he wasn't the focus of the dream...actually, chocolate cake was. He just happened to be the one who gave it to me. I ate it and didn't die, which would never happen in real life. If it really did happen, I'm pretty sure he would have poisoned the cake. Not enough to kill me, but enough to make me sick the next day. Probably.

Okay, maybe not. Although he seems to dislike me, I can't imagine him actually being that cruel. I don't think he's really psychopath material, considering the fact that Esme adores him.

Then again, Esme could love a cockroach...

"I guess so," I say in response to Rose.

She smiles sadly, seeming to grasp that we aren't talking about Emmett anymore. "We should hang out this weekend," she suggests.

I cast a glance at Jasper to see if he'll jump in about plans with me-though we have none. I'd cancel for him, though, even last minute.

Pathetic.

As it is, he says nothing.

"Sure," I say with a sigh. "Sounds fun."

"Great! I'll come over to your place. I'm tired of my brother," she teases, but there's something hard underneath her joking tone.

I just smile. "Yeah."

When the bell rings, Jasper doesn't even kiss me goodbye. Just gives me this lame one-armed hug and takes off.

Scowling, I scoop my books into my arms and head to my Biology class. Jasper's being distant, and I get to spend the next three hours with the human icicle. I mean, Edward.

Yippee.

But, I remind myself, after that I get to go to Emmett's. Just remember that, I tell myself with more levelness than I feel. Because spending time with Eddiekins, especially while I'm not so pleased with Jasper, could be incredibly detrimental to my relationship with Jasper.

Seriously.

"Emmy!" I squeal.

"_Belly_!" Emmett mocks in a falsetto voice.

"I missed you," I say with a warm smile.

"Yeah, yeah," he replies, waving his hand dismissively. "I know you're only here to see my mother."

"Actually, I do miss her...Is that her famous chocolate chip cookies I smell?" I demand, excitement coloring my tone.

Emmet pouts. "Yes. And she won't give me any. 'For Bella and Charlie'," he says in a ridiculous impression of Esme. He glances at me slyly. "Sneak me one?"

I nudge him with my knuckles. "That's all I am to you...a food source."

He bats his eyelashes. "But I love you."

"Right. Well, did you invite me over here to steal my food or play Guitar Hero?"

He grins widely. "Yep."

"Let's do it, then," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Bella," Esme trills, coming around the corner from her study. "There's chocolate chip cookies for you to take home to Charlie on the table." She hugs me briefly, adjusts a strand of hair, and then continues on her trek to the living room, somewhat absent-mindedly.

"Is she okay?" I ask, slightly concerned.

"Um, yeah...just distracted with her most recent project...She said something about beating Martha Stewart."

"Good for her."

"Yeah, she's been a little out of it lately. I guess it takes a lot to be better than Martha Stewart? I don't really know anything about her."

"Of course not," I say, exasperated.

After an hour of Guitar Hero, I settle down on Emmett's game room couch to work on homework, and he puts in Modern Warfare. About halfway through my calculus assignment, my phone rings.

"'Lo?" I mumble, biting my lip at a particularly troublesome rate of change problem.

"Bella."

"Rose? Are you okay?"

"Not...quite...Are you sitting down?"

"Yeah, why, what's wrong?" I sit up, a frown on my face.

Emmett pauses his game and turns to look at me, on alert at my mention of something being wrong.

"It's...it's Jasper."

I freeze. I can barely breathe, and I start to walk towards the door. "What's wrong with him?"

Rose laughs bitterly. "I haven't figured that much out yet."

I'm confused, but I don't say anything, anxiously waiting for her to explain.

"Bella, you know I love my brother...a lot. And I probably wouldn't tell any other girl about this."

"What is it, Rose?"

"You know how Alice and Angie came over for the Yearbook assignment?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Angie was waiting in her car for us to come out, and Alice came in to wait for me." She pauses and sniffs. "So Alice was sitting in the living room while I went to find memory cards. I put them in my room, but it took me a couple of minutes to find them." A sob chokes out from her lips. "When I came back down stairs..."

My heart is thumping so fast, I'm afraid it will explode out of my chest and smack against the antique cross resting against the wall. "What?" I ask hysterically. "What happened? Is Jasper okay?"

"I hope not!" Rose snarls suddenly.

"Rose? What did he do?"

"He cheated on you, Bella!"

The words sound far away, or like I'm not really hearing them.

"He cheated on you with Alice," Rose repeats.

The phone slips from my hands and I slide to the floor. I can't process what she just said. I mean, Jasper is my _Soul Mate_. _Soul Mates_ don't cheat on each other. This can't be happening; Rose must be mistaken. It's not possible! Jasper loves me; he wouldn't betray me. He...he...he _loves_ me!

...Doesn't he?

I hear a strange sound, like shallow gasping. Rose's voice is assaulting my ears, coming from the phone by my hand on the floor. Why is my face wet? Why does my chest hurt? What's that noise? Is someone crying? Screaming?

Is that me?

I'm dimly aware of Emmett picking up the phone and wrapping an arm around my shaking shoulders. He talks with Rose quietly and rubs my back gently.

Thoughts are running through my head sluggishly and I feel like I'm looking down at myself and not really experiencing this pain. Like I don't really have this huge hole sliced into my chest.

A traitor thought occurs to me. You knew. You knew this was happening all along.

You let this happen.

That thought is enough to send me slamming back into the real world, and the pain in my chest multiplies.

"Take me home," I moan. I'm dimly aware of Edward and Esme standing over me while Emmett talks anxiously into my phone.

Esme is saying something, but I can't understand her.

"Take me home!" I repeat.

"I'll take her," Edward says, and inexplicably, Edward's hand taking mine and pulling to me my feet is calming enough that I can walk with him to his car.

"My truck," I mumble.

"Emmett will bring it over. Don't worry, Bella," he soothes.

"Okay." I wrap my arms around my waist and try to silence my cries. I manage to pull myself together enough to cry soundlessly.

Edward turns on his music-Debussy, to be exact. This calms me slightly, but I can't stop crying and, embarrassingly, I start hiccuping.

When we reach my house, I murmur a small thanks and walk into the house. Once inside, I'm reduced to a blubbering mess, once again. I can't even get myself together enough to bother to move away from the doorway.

When Dad gets home, the door swings open to slap my back. A loud swear word escapes him, and with eyes wide, he chokes out, "Bella? What are you doing?"

The tears have stopped now, but I'm still frozen, curled up on the floor. Comfortably numb.

"Bella? What happened?"

I don't answer. Don't move.

It's all over.

7:04: Charlie tries to figure out what's wrong with Bella

7:08: Charlie carries Bella to bed

7:10: Charlie calls Esme

7:11: Emmett refuses to explain

7:17: Rosalie arrives

7:18: Bella still unresponsive; Rosalie tries to rouse her; Charlie orders pizza

7:21: Rosalie braids Bella's hair. Bella stares at the wall

7:24: Bella goes to the bathroom to vomit

7:25: Bella realizes she's on her period.

"I'm going to kill him," Rosalie says softly.

I blink, becoming somewhat aware of my surroundings. I'm in the bathroom, smell vaguely of vomit, and my hair is braided. Rosalie is standing in the doorway.

"Rose," I breathe.

"Bella? Are you okay? Can I get you anything?"

"Does he...know..."

"Jasper doesn't know you know. He doesn't know that I know, even. Not Emmett...I didn't exactly confront him. I mostly, panicked, and...well, ran back upstairs to call you." Pause. "I'm sorry Bella."

"Not your fault. Mine."

**Friday, March 13, 2009**

Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does.

Even for me. [1]

After a day spent hugging Bertha, Rosalie appears. She doesn't say anything, just brushes my hair and re-braids it. She hums quietly as I stare at the water.

"You're wrong, you know."

"Hmm?"

"About what you said last night. It's not your fault," Rose explains.

"What?"

"It's Jasper's fault."

I don't answer, and Rose drops it.

"Today was interesting," she volunteers.

"Oh?" I mumble half-heartedly.

"Yeah. Emmett kind of glared at Jasper all day, and I couldn't even look at him. Art with Alice was...an awkward experience." Rose chuckled lightly.

"What?" I ask, curious about the giggle.

"You'll see."

**3:00 am, Saturday, March 14, 2009**

Rosalie slept quietly next to me, but I was awake, feeling too nauseated and depressed to sleep. I had a bucket next to the bed so I wouldn't have to keep walking to the bathroom to vomit. The room did not smell so nice, another reason I'm not sleeping so well.

Rose, on the other hand, seems to have no problem sleeping through everything.

"Well, Bella," I say softly. "Let's look at your options."

Number one, I think to myself, forget the whole thing happened. Be satisfied with sharing your man.

Riiiight. Like _that _will ever happen.

Okay, so number two. Confront Jasper.

More likely, but due to my lack of courage...Well...

Number three. Mope forever.

Has potential...

Number four. Break up with Jasper, accuse him of being a manwhore, and refuse to ever talk to him again.

That is the idea I want to go with. Unfortunately, it won't be easy, considering said lack of courage.

Rose said this: It's not my fault. And, now that I'm past the original shock, I'm understanding where she's coming from. And I'm seeing that she's right. And, she thinks I'm right; she's on my side. After all, she's here, with me, not her brother. Her twin brother, who she used to be closer to than anyone in the world.

I'm touched, suddenly, and tears well up in my eyes. Rose picked me over her flesh and blood. Sure, he cheated, but he's still her brother.

I look down at my sleeping best friend, and whisper, "Thank you."

**10:00 pm, Saturday, March 14**

"I'm going to end it," I say.

"Hmm?" Rose asks, looking up from her bowl of cereal.

Dad is gone, fishing with Billy and Harry. He never questioned my sadness, chalking it up to PMSing-thankfully. I think Rose would be slightly upset if he killed her brother. Only slightly, though.

"I'm going to break up with him."

Rosalie looks shocked. "Wait, seriously?"

I blink, confused. "Well, that's what you think I should do...right?"

"I mean, yes. But I just didn't think you would...actually do it..." Rose admits.

"Well," I say slowly. "I am. But...I need you to back me up. Make sure I actually go through with it instead of panicking. Get me?"

Rosalie sighs and sets down her spoon. "I get you."

Bile rose in my throat, and I lurched to my feet, dashing to the bathroom. "Sup, Bertha?" I mumble before vomiting. Man, I hate my period.

Rosalie leaves around lunchtime, and I spend the day in the hallway outside of the bathroom, working on the classwork Rosalie picked up for me from school. Sweet girl, that Rosalie.

Implicit deriving seems to take my mind of Jasper, which, although I detest calculus, is a good thing.

There are only so many problems though, and within an hour and a half, I'm done and unable to focus on my government reading assignment. Not that I'm able to most of the time, but with the added Jasper stress, focusing isn't physically possible.

I set down the book for government, and seek something out to do that will occupy my hands and mind...like some sort of bead work. That'd be cool.

Instead, I walk downstairs and go outside. The sun is up, ironically, on the day I feel like crap.

Maybe it's a good thing, though. I'd like to soak in some vitamin D at the moment. It might make me feel better.

On the way out the door, I grabbed my bucket, and now I sit on the moist grass outside, clutching my bucket and not caring that the rain residue is soaking through my sweats. I shut my eyes, tilting my head upward. The sun warms my face, and I breathe through my mouth, inhaling the taste of a clear day.

It tastes like freedom, and for a moment, I am free. I don't worry about what I'll say to Jasper on Monday, or how Rose is taking the break up, or about my parents. I don't think about the cramps and the nausea, or the urge to cry. I don't worry about Edward or Emmett, Alice or Angela. Leah. Kim, Ammon, Jacob, Seth. None of that. In this moment, I am just...Bella.

And then a car pulls up-my truck to be exact, with Edward's Volvo right behind it.

Emmett climbs out of the truck, and walks towards me. "Hey, Bella," he murmurs, coming up to me and wrapping his arms around me. "How are you feeling?"

I don't want to lie to Emmett, so I simply say, "I've been worse. And I'm doing better since Thursday, so..."

"Can I ask why you're sitting outside?" Emmett says hesitantly, obviously not wanting to upset me.

This walking on eggshells is going to seriously annoy me... "Because, Emmett, I enjoy having a wet butt." I smirk, and a relieved smile lights up his face.

"Perfectly logical. I'd sit down, but Edward would get upset if I tried to sit in his car with a less than dry butt." Emmett hands me my keys.

I chuckle lightly, then sober. "Thanks. Emmett...does Edward know?"

Emmett's face darkens. "No. Though he's very curious as to why Rose cut off all of Alice's hair..."

"What?" I gasp, straightening.

Emmett tilts his head to the side. "She didn't tell you?"

"No! What happened?"

"Well, Rose and Alice have art together, and Rose happened to be walking by Alice with scissors in her hand and...ah, tripped. Cut off a huge chunk of Alice's hair. Apparently, Alice freaked...Though, why wouldn't she?" Emmett smirks. "I admit I'm very proud, but Edward refused to talk to Rose when she dropped by yesterday. Normally he greets her."

"So it's only me he refuses to talk to," I say dryly.

"Give the guy a break...He gave you a ride home," Emmett points out.

I sigh. "You're right. My bad. Will you tell him thank you for me?"

"Sure. Is there anything I can get my best friend?" Emmett asks, his face urgent.

"Just pray to the weather gods that it stays sunny. And when I start a fight with Jasper, stay on my side," I mumble. "I mean, I understand if you want to stick with Jasper. He's your friend, too."

"No, he isn't. He lost that right after what he did," Emmett says, rolling his eyes. "He just doesn't know it yet. Rose insisted that we don't ditch him yet so you can blindside him."

"Rosalie is delightfully devious," I say, suddenly impressed. "Nice pick."

"I know, right? I probably need to go, now, so Edward doesn't get mad. But call me if you need anything. I'll drive over." Emmett hugs me again, and jogs over to the Volvo.

I lift an arm and wave as they drive away.

Back to sunbathing.

Dad comes home at seven, and finds me sitting in front of the TV, watching Buffy reruns.

He walks through, holding a cooler presumably filled with fish.

"Dad?" I ask, as he goes through the doorway to the kitchen.

After a minute, he appears in the living room and looks at me expectantly.

"Were the fish biting?" I ask, stalling. An idea has been poking at me all day, but I'm not sure how Dad will take it.

"Pretty well," he says suspiciously. He knows I hate fishing, and that I'm not a huge fan of fish themselves, either.

"Well...I was wondering...if you would, uh, go to church with me?" The last bit comes out in a hurried rush, but I'm pretty sure he understood it. "I mean, I can go by myself, but I'd really like it if you were with me," I babble.

The church here is Presbyterian or something, but I figure the denomination doesn't matter much. The fact is, if I can go hear the preacher preach, I might feel a little bit comfortable again, like I was on Sundays in Phoenix. I crave that familiarity, that safety net, especially right now, when everything is uncertain.

For a long moment, Dad considers this. Then, "Okay. It starts at ten."

I relax. "Thanks, Dad."

He smiles lightly. "Sure."

I turn my attention back to the praying mantis lady trying to mate with Xander, and Dad leaves the room.

**Sunday, March 15, 2009**

Church is an interesting experience.

In a way, it is comfortingly familiar, and in another way, it is heartbreaking.

Mr. Weber is the reverend.

Alice's father is the reverend.

Alice Weber is sitting in front of me, listening to her father in the pulpit.

It's painful, but also amusing, because Alice has thrown a few furtive glances at me over her shoulder, and looks nervous as I'll get out. Probably because every time she does, I'm glaring at her.

And her hair...

To balance out Rose's handiwork, Alice's hair, once shoulder-length and smooth, is now a spiky pixie cut, adding to her fairy like appearance, and covering her true evil personality.

Am I being unjustifiably cruel?

I think not.

Still, I'm eventually able to tune Alice out, and focus on her father instead. It's nice to hear about church-y things, because Mom and Dad never put much stock into them, so I never learned about them as a child. But in Phoenix, when I started attending church, it was like a whole new world opened up to me. I wasn't sure I believed it, but I liked hearing about it. It was almost like a series of fairy tales to me, and I loved it. I still do.

After church, our honorable reverend walks over to Dad and me, and shakes our hands. "Thank you for joining us today. Will you be returning?"

Dad glances at me, and I answer, "I'd like to."

Dad harrumphs, but squeezes my hand reassuringly.

"That's wonderful, Ms. Isabella."

"Bella," I correct him, firmly, and smile. "I enjoyed the sermon."

He smiles, and then Dad and I are on our merry way. Well, merry for Dad, contemplative for me.

Grateful that my period has cleared up, I tell dad that I'm going to take a nap to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

Once in my room, it's easy to collapse and sleep until five.

My sleep is dreamless, but when I wake up, it's as though my mind received no rest. It jolts forward, scanning thoughts and discarding them faster than my conscious mind can acknowledge them.

One thing is for sure...tomorrow will be difficult.

-  
[1] New Moon, page 93

Special response to Vicky Cullen: Thanks so much for the review! It would be awesome to have the story in Brazilian, so let me know in a review how the best way to do it would be. Thanks again!


	10. Truce

A/N: Okay, so I've finished a majority of the stuff I was working on. I'm not promising that I'll give consistent updates, but I'll do what I can. I'm still editing a lot of things. :) However, here's what I can offer...Special thanks to my beta, Nichi Nara. I love her to pieces. :)

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own _Twilight_. I also do not own _Ethan From_e, Guitar Hero, or Volvo.

* * *

"I am the ground zero ex-friend you ordered  
Disguised as a hero to get past your borders  
I know when I'm wanted, I'll leave when you ask me to  
Mind my own business and speak when I'm spoken to"  
- Truce by The Dresden Dolls  


* * *

Chapter 9 - Truce

* * *

At eight o' clock, I call Rose.

"Hello?"

I swear mentally-it's Jasper. "Um, hey, Jasper. Could I talk to Rose?" My voice is mercifully level, and my breathing is even. I betray nothing, though my normal excitement for talking to him is absent.

He seems not to notice, and merely murmurs his assent.

This is almost worse-how terrible, that he either doesn't recognize my tone of voice, or he just doesn't care.

No worries, I remind myself. You'll be rid of him, soon.

"Bella? What's up?" Rose.

I'm sitting on my bed, my clothes strewn around me. "Well...what should I wear?"

"What?"

"I'm not sure if I should go with coordinated confidence, or comfortably calm. What do you think? I want to look put together, but at the same time, I think I might get upset, and I want to be comfortably dressed if that happens, and-"

"Bella. Wear skinny jeans, hi-tops, and a nice shirt. Then you're both comfortable and put together. What color are your hi-tops?"

"Um, red."

"Then wear a red shirt. And wear make-up, and straighten your hair. Remember, I've got your back, so don't freak out."

I blow out a breath. "Thanks, Rose."

"Go get 'em, tiger," Rose growls into the phone.

I laugh anxiously.

"Bella...Really. Calm down. It will be fine."

I sigh. "Thanks. Again."

"Look," Rose sighs, "I gotta go. I'll wait for you at the picnic tables tomorrow. Jasper will probably be with me, so, it will all work out."

"All right. I'll see you," I mumble. "Bye."

Rose says goodbye in return, and we hang up.

I huff and start to pick up my clothes, leaving out Rose's suggestions, to place them on my desk.

And then I'm finished, and left with nothing to do but pace nervously. Anxiety is making my face pull down into a frown.

Astonishing, I think to myself. Just three days ago, I was completely torn apart. Now I'm nervous about breaking up with him. And angry mostly.

The truth is, though, I'm still smarting from his rejection. I've just channeled the hurt into anger and hatred rather than depression and self-doubt.

Oddly, this feels like an accomplishment to me. I, who has never even strongly disliked someone in my entire life, hate Jasper Hale.

Well, he deserves it. And Alice, too.

I feel deeply satisfied, suddenly. I'm a strong person, I remind myself. Jasper just couldn't see that. And tomorrow, I'll break up with him and move on with my life.

* * *

**Monday, March 16, 2009**

Sitting in my truck in front of Forks High School, I find myself gripping the wheel tightly enough to make my already-white knuckles even whiter. In my head, I'm repeating an expletive without pause.

What am I doing? I demand of myself. Breaking up with Jasper? How did I ever think this would be easy?

I can see him sitting at the table with Rose and Emmett, both of whom look decidedly uncomfortable. Jasper probably does, too, but I can't see his face; his back is to me.

Back to expletive repeating.

Hands shaking, I grab my phone and text Rose.

"Help me."

Send.

A moment later, my phone buzzes, and Rosalie's reply appears on the touch screen.

"Get out of the car. Walk over. You can do this. Just think about what he did to you."

Okay, okay, okay, okay. I can do this. I _can_ do this!

I open the door, grab my bag, and jump out. Then my eyes turn back to the table.

I can't do this.

Expletive repeating.

The phone buzzes in my hand again. "Bella! Get over here NOW!"

I suck in a breath and walk purposely toward the table.

"Hi, Bella," Rose calls in a falsely cheerful voice.

I wave wordlessly, my throat thick.

Jasper spins in his seat and smiles at me.

This momentarily stuns me, that he's not anxious that I'll find out his secret. But then I realize he's been doing this for weeks-his acting is down to a tee.

This sudden revelation gives me enough courage, or anger, maybe, to say, "Hi, Jasper. Can we talk?"

The smile slides off of his face, and something odd flickers in his eyes. "Actually, Bella, I need to go to class. Maybe later."

And then he's standing and pushing by me, leaving me momentarily stunned.

I growl, slightly annoyed. Had I really been so pathetic as to roll over and take that?

"Jasper," I snap. "We have twenty minutes until the bells ring. I only need a few minutes."

"Really, Bella, I need to-"

"Shut up!" I snarl, suddenly fed up. "What kind of bull are you trying to feed me?"

Jasper has stopped, turned to face me, and has an utterly shocked look on his face. "What?"

"You heard me! It doesn't take anyone twenty minutes to walk to class. So, you're going to talk to me." I pause, shaking my head. "I realize now that you don't actually care about me, but I'd appreciate it if you actually quit lying to me for a second."

"Bella, I don't know what you're talking about. I care about you...a lot!" Jasper says earnestly.

I just shake my head. "I'm not sure if you ever cared about me. If you did, it only lasted for two weeks, and then you were all gaga over Alice Weber. Or maybe you never did. Was I just a front to hide the fact that she was cheating on Edward with you?"

"What are you talking about?" Jasper demands, but his eyes are wild, and reveal his true feelings. I can practically hear him thinking, Oh, crap. She knows.

"You heard me!" I growl. "You have been lying to me, and you have been screwing around with Alice because you think that I won't find out, and that Edward just trusts Alice too much to suspect anything! Well, whoop-di-doo. Surprise, and screw you, Jasper Hale. I never want to see you again. I _hate_ you!"

"Don't you blame this on me!" Jasper snaps suddenly. "If you hadn't been mooning over Edward, Alice and I never would have happened."

"Excuse me?" I choke out. _He noticed?_ "I don't like Edward; we aren't even friends! How would you even come to that conclusion? And even if I did like Edward, I wouldn't do anything about it, because it's a common courtesy not to cheat on your boyfriend! Obviously one you don't know about! So don't you dare try to say I'm in the wrong!"

"Don't lie to me!" Jasper screamed, leaning forward. "I could tell!"

"But I didn't cheat on you," I yelled right back.

"The truth is, it's your fault for not being good enough!" Jasper says coldly.

I feel a cold rage bubbling up inside me, making me tremble. I swear at him, rear back, and swing my fist forward as hard as I can.

I'll probably never find a greater satisfaction than watching Jasper's head snap back and be followed by his falling body.

Emmett whistles in the background, but I hardly notice.

Instead, I lean over his body, and say the cruelest thing I can think of. "Like father, like son," I hiss.

Jasper flinches, and it's clear that those four words hurt him far more than the punch I just delivered.

I straighten, gather my books and try to push through the crowd. I'm shaking due to a mixture of an adrenaline rush and weakness from my anger.

During the fight, a crowd has gathered, and they're all staring in shock. There's a general murmuring, probably along the lines of "How did tiny Bella just clock Jasper?" Or maybe about the cheating. But probably about the punch. Luckily for me, the crowds are parting, except for one person who stands in my way.

Alice freaking Weber.

"Move," I say coldly when I'm standing in front of her.

She calls me a not so polite word, and shoves me. "How dare you!"

"How dare _you_!" I yell back, catching myself. "What was wrong with your boyfriend that you had to steal mine? Really, what's wrong with you? Why couldn't you just stick with Edward and leave us alone? Screw you! Don't talk to me, ever, you little whore!"

Alice lets out a small shriek of fury and slaps me.

I roll my eyes, push her aside, and continue.

Of course she's not satisfied with this, and starts to chase after me, yelling and pushing me.

Still jittery, I spin around and push her. I, being much bigger than her, knock her over. "Will you quit it?" I snap. "It's not my fault you chose to cheat, okay? So piss off!"

I hear someone gasp behind me, and turn to see Edward, staring at us with horror in his eyes.

"Alice?" he whispers.

Alice, for her benefit, looks terrified. She swallows. "Edward."

Rosalie catches up to me then, and wraps an arm around my waist. "Come on, Bella," she whispers. "Let's go."

I follow only because she's practically dragging me. My adrenaline rush is still pulsing through me, and the anger, too. I want to pick a fight with Alice, and go back and beat Jasper some more, but Rose just rubs my back and pushes me forward.

On the way to my English class, which-oh, joy of all joys-I share with Jasper, we pass Forks High School's only security guard, who hasn't noticed the fight, as he is too busy flirting with a sophomore English teacher. Typical-this is, after all, Forks. Everyone here has known each other _forever_, and knows how not to get under skin. Generally, people fight in kindergarten, and then don't do it again.

Oddly, this small town has it figured out. No one wants to fight. We just step back and tolerate.

Phoenix must have changed me. There is no way I would step back and tolerate Jasper cheating on me.

Rose hugs me tightly before leaving me standing outside of my English class. "You can handle this, okay? If you need me, text and ask to go to the bathroom. I'll meet you there."

I nod, and wrap my arms around myself. I let myself believe that I can hold it together. Truthfully, I'm still shaking. I suck in a breath and slide into class.

Mr. Mason types at his computer, completely oblivious to my presence. He doesn't know about the fight. Obviously.

But the students probably do-no one is staring at me yet, because I'm the first one here.

I bite my lip, reach into my bag, and pull out the novel we were recently assigned-_Ethan Frome_.

Well, I thought to myself. That's ironic. I would end up reading a book about adultery.

Rolling my eyes, I open it to the chapters assigned today and start reading.

The room fills as I continue reading about Ethan and his hypochondriac wife.

Reading this makes me question the relationship I had with the idiot who just slid into the desk next to mine. (Assigned seats, unfortunately.) Had I just been a person Jasper wanted around to prevent loneliness? Did he think I was crazy? When had Alice stepped in? Before or after we'd begun dating? I feel utterly confused, and more than a bit put out.

Still, the fact that Jasper is developing a black eye makes me feel better than I have in the past two weeks.

It is beyond awkward to sit next to him, by the way. I mean, you try punching your ex-boyfriend, and then go sit in English with him glaring holes into the side of your head.

Nowhere near a walk in the park. I haven't turned a page in the past twenty minutes-Jasper's glare is rather distracting. Plus the story is painful to read, but that's beside the point.

When the bell finally rings, ending the agonizing period, I leap to my feet and hurry out of the room.

Jasper is hot on my heels, muttering insults loudly enough that I hear them, but softly enough that no one else does. After a moment, a female voice joins in on the name-calling-Alice.

The words hurt and tear into me, revealing insecurities I didn't realize I had until now. I speed up, but so do my followers.

I want to be confident. I want to turn and confront them, but instead, I keep my head down to hide the hot tears that are welling up in my eyes.

I run into Emmett, who instantly pulls me tight against him.

The speaking behind me stops.

"Is there a problem?" Emmett asks coolly, rubbing my back as I cry quietly. It's somewhat mortifying, but I can't do a thing about it.

When Jasper speaks, he sounds surprised. "You're siding with her?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Emmett snaps. "Bella didn't do anything wrong."

"But we've been friends for so long!" Jasper chokes out.

"Bella is my best friend, Jasper. You are _dirt _compared to her," Emmett says coldly. "So why don't you and your dirtbag of a cheating girlfriend piss off and leave Bella alone?"

Emmett is pretty intimidating, and the jerks slink off.

"What class do you have, Bella? I'll take you."

"Government," I whisper.

Silently, Emmett releases me and grabs my hand, pulling me along behind him safely. He hugs me when we get there, and kisses my forehead. "You'll be okay, Bella. You did the right thing." He reaches out and grabs someone on the way into the class-Tyler. "Hey, man. Will you sit by Bella? Help her out if someone decides to say something...smart."

"No problem," Tyler says, reaching out and patting my shoulder. "I gotcha covered."

I smile gratefully at him, and he walks inside the class.

Turning back to Emmett, I say, "Thank you. You're the best friend ever."

He grins that silly grin of his and says, "Oh, I know."

And then he pushes me into the classroom, and he's gone.

I sigh, and move to take a seat next to Tyler.

He leans over and mutters, "By the way, Bella...you were totally awesome this morning. No one knew you could throw a punch like that!"

I crack a smile. "You can thank my mom for that."

Tyler smiles back at me, and offers me a fist bump. I take it. "Everyone is on your side, you know," he comments, his dark eyes flashing. "No one likes a cheater."

I duck my head, a true smile lighting on my face. "Thank you."

As usual, government is boring and pointless. Tyler talks to me quietly sometimes, but mostly pretends to pay attention. Mike, who started dating Jessica a while back, doesn't even bother to flirt with me, which I definitely appreciate.

After class, Rose walks beside me, her fingernails digging into my hands as she drags me through the halls. I don't mind; it's better than being alone.

In yearbook, she silently braids my hair again, and the undoes the braid, running her fingers through it. At last, she stands and opens a Pandora page on her computer. Soothing melodies from Strauss play, and I smile gratefully. Rose smiles in return and takes her seat next to me again.

"Do you need to talk about it?"

I'm silent for a moment, and then say, "Why did he blame me?"

Rose sighs. "Because he's an idiot. Whenever my parents get into a fight about Dad and his mistresses, he always pulls the same crap. 'It's your fault!' and what not. Complete bull. Jasper knows this. He just happens to be stupid enough to think that because mom still sticks with dad, you'll stick with him." She pauses and smiles a little. "You were pretty awesome out there."

"Thanks. I feel like a jerk, though...I said something really mean."

Rose waves her hand dismissively. "He deserved it." She glances at me curiously. "What are you referring to, though?"

"Well...I said, 'Like father, like son.' He looked like that wounded him more than when I punched him," I mumble.

Rose stares at me, mouth agape. She lets out a low whistle. "I'm impressed," she says at last. "I didn't know you had the balls to say that kind of thing."

I wince. "I don't. I'm a girl."

Rose grins. "There's the Bella I know and love...I thought I was talking to a hollow shell. Corny jokes...I missed them."

I snort. "Alice's hair looks fantastic, by the way." I shoot her a meaningful look. "When are you gonna do mine?"

Rose's mouth pops open. "How did you know that was me?"

I roll my eyes. "You told me something happened. Plus, Emmett told me..."

"Oh." She laughs. "Yes...I suddenly caught your clumsy that day," she teases.

"Good for you. It clearly came in handy," I say with a small smile.

* * *

Edward doesn't come to biology, chemistry, or gym.

I'll be honest; I'm worried about him. This is weird-normally I don't feel anything for him but attraction. But I know how he feels right now-at least, I have some idea of it-and I feel bad for him.

After school, I head home. I don't feel like going to Emmett's now, even with the prospect of checking on Edward, or just playing Guitar Hero. I'd rather just take a nap, or do homework, or something.

But on the way home, I see Edward's Volvo on the side of the road. I frown and pull over behind it. Edward isn't in the car, and there's no indication of where he might be. There's a path leading into the woods, but Edward never struck me as the path-following type.

Should I wait for him?

I sit back against the seat and ponder my predicament. Nope, I decide, and drive away.

Once home, I meticulously do my homework, leaving no aspect of my English thesis underdeveloped and no trig function half-attempted. Still, my homework takes only an hour.

I work meticulously through a new recipe for ravioli. It gives me plenty to do with my hands, and and hour later, I set it on the stove to heat.

Now what? I wonder as I set the timer. I wander into the living room and turn on the TV. Some mindless sitcom is on, so I settle down to watch. When the credits roll, I still have no idea what's going on.

Someone knocks on the door. I stand and shuffle over to it.

I open the door and say, "Hello?"

And to my great shock, Edward Cullen is on the other side.

"Hello, Bella."

"Edward?" I say, naturally surprised.

"Hi." He looks sheepish suddenly, and looks down. "Can I come in?"

What can I say to that? I nod and step back. "Sure."

"I'm sorry for coming over with no notice, and I, ah, know we're not on the best of terms, but...I just..." Edward's eyes meet mine, and I see the anguish there.

I shake my head. "I understand."

He smiles gratefully. "Thank you."

I shut the door behind him, and gesture to the couch. "Have a seat...I just need to go check on dinner."

"Okay," he agrees, and perches at the edge of the couch.

I don't actually need to check dinner; I still have several minutes until the timer will go off. But I do need a second to escape the small room. As much as I empathize with Edward, he's right. We're not on the best of terms. Well, it is what it is...

I reenter the living room. "You can change the channel. I was just trying to distract myself...it didn't work so well."

Edward absent-mindedly picked up the remote and changed the channel to a music station.

I sink down onto the other end of the couch, and watch Edward.

He looks over to me, eyes haggard. He doesn't speak.

I cough. "I saw your car on the side of the road." I'm not sure why I bring this up. It feels vaguely significant, I guess. I pull my knees up against my chest and wrap my arms around them.

He shrugs. "I went hiking."

I frown, and mutter, "Okay."

I can tell from the nonchalant way he says it that it is significant, but he won't be telling me why any time soon.

He glances at me and smiles sadly. He knows I know. But he still won't be explaining.

"Bella," he says after a few moments of silence. "How long have you known?"

I frown and look away. "Since Thursday. I'm sure you remember my breakdown."

He sighs. "I thought as much." He frowned. "I didn't know until this morning."

I glance at him. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I guess I should have told you."

"No, it's fine. You were distracted," he says simply.

"I was," I agree. This is the longest polite conversation we've ever had. Interesting.

Edward coughs. "So...how are you liking Forks?"

I smile softly. "It's been great. It's like coming home." I sigh. "With some exceptions."

Edward winces. "I want to apologize for my behavior since you've moved here. I haven't exactly been fair."

He doesn't explain why, and I'm curious, but I don't press. "No blood, no foul," I say simply.

"I remember their being blood," he points out with a hint of a smile.

I grin, "Okay, okay. I'm sorry! I really didn't mean to; I'm just terminally clumsy." I push my face into my knees to hide a smirk.

He laughs lightly. "No worries. It's all in the past."

There's more silence then, and I look up. "So...are we friends now?"

Edward looks at me. "I think we can try that."

I smile.

He smiles.

And then Dad walks in. "Afternoon, Bells," his voice rumbles. He looks into the living room. "Um...Hello there, Edward. How are you?"

"I'm doing well, Chief Swan. I hope you don't mind me stopping by. I was just picking up some homework from Bella." The lie slips easily from his lips, and I smirk slightly.

Standing, I say, "I'll go get that for you."

"That's fine," Dad says. "How're Carlisle and Esme?"

"They're doing just fine."

I return a few minutes later to find Edward and Dad conversing easily. "Edward," I speak up. "Would you like to stay for dinner? We're having ravioli." The time goes off suddenly, and I walk into the kitchen without waiting for Edward's response.

The ravioli is finished, and I take it off of the stove.

I peer back into the living room. "Well?"

Edward smiles slightly. "Okay. I mean, if that's okay with you, Chief Swan."

"Sounds good with me," Dad says simply. "But you better call your parents."

I'm actually vaguely surprised that Dad didn't protest, especially since he walked in to find Edward and I very alone. Most dads would have been quite upset at the thought of their daughters alone with some boy.

Dad walks into the kitchen and takes three plates from the cupboard. "We need to talk, Bella," he says simply, and then walks away.

I stare after him, mystified. Shaking my head, I pull three knives and three forks out. "Okay," I mutter, and walk into the dining room. Edward enters a few moments later, after I've already said my prayer. He carefully takes the seat across from me.

"Dig in," Dad says with a small smile.

"Thank you," Edward says with a tight smile in return. He scoops some of the ravioli out of the pot and drizzles it with my marinara sauce.

Dad snorts. He knows that Edward will get more sauce in a second. Probably more ravioli, too. I don't mean to brag, but I make a mean marinara sauce.

Sure enough, Edward returns for more sauce a minute later, and Dad and I share a smirk.

"How are things, Edward?" Dad asks. I have the distinct feeling that he knows things are bad. I shoot a look at him curiously.

Edward pauses in his chewing, and says, "Things are...all right. I guess. School, you know," he answers vaguely. Abruptly, he looks toward me and says, "This is very good, Bella."

"Thank you," I say daintily.

Somehow, we've reached a truce. I like it. I duck my head down to hide a smile and finish eating.

Dad and I don't leave the table after Edward leaves. We're silent for a moment, and then Dad stands, and opens his arms toward me.

I'm surprised. Dad's not really touchy-feely; neither am I. But I step into his embrace and sag against him. I need this.

After a few moments, we step back and watch each other warily. Dad watches me like I'll run away, and I watch him to see what he knows.

"I heard that you and Jasper broke up," Dad says at long last.

I sputter. "What? How did you-?"

"Bella. This is Forks. Did you honestly expect that to remain a secret?" Dad says doubtfully.

"Oh," I mutter. "Sorry."

Dad rolls his eyes. "I asked Renee about it. Since she knew, I didn't get too upset..."

I blush. "I just didn't know what to expect, Dad. I mean, you never really asked, and we normally don't have heart-to-hearts."

He shrugs. "Just tell me next time." His face softens. "Bella..."

I sniff and look away. I know he's going to ask about the break up.

"I heard."

I nod. "Turns out he wasn't who I thought he was." I look away and wipe an errant tear away.

Dad hugs me again.

For a while, we don't speak, and then I back up and leave the room. I want to sleep.

"By the way, Bella," Dad says as I leave, "I also heard you gave him a black eye." There's a bit of pride in his voice, and I can't help my smirk.

"Yeah," I says softly. "I did."

Dad chuckles. "Well, then, Bella...I'm proud. Sleep well."

"Thanks, Dad. I love you."

There's a slight pause. "I love you, too, Bells."

I smile softly as I prepare for bed, those words echoing in my head. Somehow, my breakup with Jasper brought me closer to my father than I ever could have imagined. That night, I slept peacefully.

* * *

A/N: This chapter is shorter than the others. But it feels pretty complete. Not much to say...if you have questions, ask them in a review!


	11. Untitled

A/N: Okay guys, I'm deeply sorry. I know it's been quite a while, and this chapter isn't really exciting or long. However, I'm uploading what i have, partly un-beta'd because I want you to have it now...I'd say stuff about how busy I was (because it's definitely true) but I figure you don't care.

I will complain about uploading this, though: Fanfiction is NOT very Mac-friendly, have you noticed? I had to upload this as a notepad. JANK. Anyway, enjoy this, hopefully...

Special thanks to my beta, Nichi Nara. :)

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight, Jeep, Ethan Frome, Sharpie, or Speak.

* * *

**Tuesday, March 17, 2009**

* * *

School is terrible. Whoever came up with the idea of forcing immature teenagers together in an attempt to get them to learn was very foolish; it is nearly impossible to learn anything here.

I groan as I pull into the lot. Jasper is at the usual table, with Alice sitting next to him. Their heads are close together as they talk about...something.

I scowl. Screw them.

I find Emmett and Rose sitting in Emmett's Jeep, and without knocking, I climb into the back.

"Hey there, Clumsy," Emmett says cheerfully. "How ya doin'?"

"I've been better, but I could be worse," I reply honestly.

"That's good," Rose says. "Did you sleep well?"

"I was fine." I pause, wondering if I should mention Edward. I decide to tell them; they are my best friends after all. "Edward came over."

Emmett's eyes rose to meet mine in the rear view mirror. "So I heard." He smirks suddenly. "When do I get to try your amazing pasta sauce?"

I shrug. "Just come over sometime when I'm in a bad mood. Making pasta is very relaxing."

"Gawsh, Bella," Rose complains. "You're the epitome of the woman stereotype. You're probably the single reason Emmett keeps telling me to go make him a 'sammich'."

I scowl and smack the back of Emmett's head. "Don't order your girlfriend around."

"Yes, ma'am," Emmett agrees quickly.

"What happened?" Rose demands, twisting around to face me.

"Not much. He came over. We made a sort of truce, and I guess we're...friends now. And then I invited him to stay for dinner. Dad was okay with it."

"Hmmph. That's weird. Charlie never seemed the trusting type," Emmett says, poking his cheek.

"I know. He hardly batted an eye," I muse. "And he knew I was dating Jasper."

"You didn't tell him?" Emmett asks curiously, eyeing me in his rear-view mirror.

"No...it never came up," I say simply. The truth is, I figured Dad would freak if I ever dated someone. I guess he's okay with idea. Still...something seems off. He should have grounded me for lying to him last night.

The door of the Jeep opens, and Edward slides in next to me. "Hey," he says softly. "Do you mind?"

I offer him a soft smile. "Of course not."

I can't be angry with Edward. Despite the fact that he was so rude to me only a few days ago, he's in the same boat as me, and I think he might not hate me any more.

He returns my smile and settles slowly into the car. He slides his backpack off and places it between his feet. He slumps back into the seat. "They disgust me," he says. His voice is quiet but full of anger.

My eyes flicker to Jasper and Alice. They're visible, but only just.

"Shameless," I offer. I take his hand and squeeze it gently.

His eyes flicker to mine and hold my gaze for a moment. There's very intense, conflicting emotion raging behind Edward's eyes, and very briefly, I think he'll turn than anger on me. Abruptly he shuts his eyes and pulls his hand from mine. He turns toward the window, clearly uncomfortable.

I grimace. Touch comes naturally to me, but clearly not to Edward. I must have overstepped a line. I feel like I should apologize, but I don't know how to say it, so I just look away awkwardly.

Rose breaks the silence. "He...at home, he doesn't understand why I won't talk to him. I guess he just assumed, since I was his twin that I'd be on his side. But he's the one who did the wrong thing..."

Emmett rolls his eyes. "He did the same thing to me."

"Idiot," I hiss, and my mouth pulls downward.

Now, Edward pats my hand, albeit awkwardly.

I glance at him, eyes wide. He's not watching me, but is looking out of the window. As though feeling my gaze, he turns to look at me, and once again, I can see the emotions shifting behind his eyes.

I smile hesitantly, and he awkwardly smiles back.

I don't think I've ever been in a more awkward situation.

"Well," Rose says primly, eyeing the two of us, "I don't know what you two were doing with the pair of them in the first place. You both deserve better."

I sigh and don't respond. Rose's words are cute and sweet, but they don't help me to stop feeling like chopped liver in comparison to Alice. There is still a huge part of me questioning why Jasper sought female companionship from someone other than myself. Why wasn't I enough for him?

The bell rings.

I groan. "I have first period with him."

"Sorry, Bells," Emmett says.

I shake my head. "It's not your fault."

"I'll walk you to class, Bella," Edward says softly, but his voice has an odd inflection that lets me know he's offering it out of obligation, not because he actually wants to.

"Um, no, it's okay," I mutter. No need to put Edward in a more uncomfortable situation.

Edward shrugs and says "Okay."

I jump from the Jeep, feeling suddenly stifled in the small space with Edward. "See you guys later," I say.

Emmett calls out to me, "Hey, Bella! I'll walk you to your next class, okay?"

I turn back and offer a smile and nod. "Thank you." Too late, I realize this might make Edward feel like I didn't want him to walk me to class. But, I realized suddenly, I don't want him to walk me to class. I mean, yes, we're friends now. But just last week, he couldn't stand the sight of me. I'm not holding it against him, but it's just awkward.

I can feel the people watching me as I walk down the halls. I can hear the whispers. I can smell their curiosity, taste their interest, see their fingers pointing.

I blush and drop my gaze. I catch a glance of Edward, walking tall, unashamed. Edward, inexplicably, is much stronger than I am, even though his wounds are fresher. I don't mind; something tells me that he's very good at ignoring his own pain.

I swallow and lift my head. I'll be strong for him. We'll pretend it doesn't bother us, that we're better than that, and Jasper and Alice can suck it.

I can pretend.

* * *

It is a very good thing that I've already studied Ethan Frome. It is completely impossible to focus with Jasper glaring holes into my head.

I manage to look like I'm ignoring him, but it's probably obvious to him, at least, that I can't.

I sigh, and pretend to listen to Mr. Mason drone on about Ethan and his crazy wife.

Good. Ness! My chest felt really uncomfortable, especially with Jasper staring at me that way. My heart started pounding, and I felt a headache begin. There was ibuprofen in my purse-since I'd found out about Jasper and Alice, I'd been prone to headaches-but I had no way to take it.

I raised my hand and asked to go to the restroom. Mr. Mason agreed. He knew I didn't really need to hear the lecture anyway.

In the bathroom, I lean over the sink and stare at myself in the mirror. I look awful, but I guess that's to be expected.

I sigh and rub my forehead. Everything hurts so bad.

With a groan, I leave the bathroom, put the ibuprofen on the back of my tongue, and gulp down some water at the fountain. Wincing, I slide to sit down next to the fountain. The security guard passed me on my way to the bathroom, so I know he won't be back around the high school for another ten minutes at the least.

I sit there an trace designs in the brick with my eyes. Rain falls gently on the awning above me, and I listen to that for a moment, too. It's a gentle rain, for which I am grateful. Any harder, and it would still be hitting me, bouncing upward from the spot of impact in order to reach me.

I slide my hand into my pocket and grasp a sharpie. It's blue, fine point, brand new. Well, not new, but unused. I'd picked it up from Dad's coffee table. He never used it, but he kept it around just in case.

In case of what? I'm not sure. Probably not for what I'm considering.

I slide my eyes sideways, and then stand and slide back into the bathroom. I enter the second stall and shut the door behind me. I stare up at the door, covered in random insults and song lyrics. Someone has written a poem on the top corner.

I remember a scene from one of my favorite books, Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, where the main character writes on the bathroom stalls. Certainly seemed to help her...I take a breath, lift the pen, and write:

Boys to avoid: Jasper Hale

I step back and cap the sharpie. I smile slightly, and leave the stall, tucking the sharpie into my pocket.

* * *

I return to class with a smug smirk on my face. I feel better after vandalising, which is probably a bad thing. As long as the administration, and in turn my father, don't find out, it's no big deal.

In Speak, the main character returns to the bathroom to find several responses to her comment, all in her favor. I have no idea if the same will be true for me, but it doesn't matter. Having a visual representation of what I feel right now is the best thing that could happen.

I can tell that Jasper is confused by my suddenly pleased appearance, which makes me only more smug. That's right. I can be happy without you.

With some sadness, I realize that he'll never see what I'm pleased about. But then I realize that Alice will. Doubtless, word will get back to him. Problem solved.

The bell rings, and I begin to gather my things. Jasper doesn't bother to wait for me today, for which I'm grateful. I swing my bag over my shoulder and head out of the room. I meet Emmett on my way to government, link my arm through his, and smile at him for the first time since Thursday.

He smiles in return. "What got into you?"

"I vandalised the bathroom stalls."

"Awesome." Emmett says, laughing.

* * *

My day is uneventful until lunchtime, when Edward walks over to our table and asks if he can sit with us.

"Of course, bro," Emmett answers automatically.

"Yep," Rose says.

I just nod and offer a smile.

Edward hesitantly smiles back, and I detect a bit of guilt in the smile. It makes me wonder for a second, but I brush it off. Everyone feels guilty at some point. Edward's guilt is probably just about how rude he had originally been.

I smile wider to show it doesn't bother me any more. I hope he catches my meaning, but I can't be sure.

Then I realize everything is getting awkward again, so I turn my attention to Rose and Emmet's conversation.

"...which reminds me, Bella, I need you to help me plan my birthday party."

I blink, and vaguely recall that Rose's birthday is coming up. "April 28, right?" I hedge.

Truthfully, parties have never been my thing. I don't like large crowds and have a slight aversion to wrapping paper, as I manage to get at least five paper cuts for every present I open. Of course, that's not a good reason to avoid Rose's party. And considering Rose's introversion, it wouldn't surprise me if her idea of a party was going to Port Angeles with Emmett and me.

"Yes. And Esme is not to know, or else I'll end up with a cake taller than me, the presence of the entire senior class, and lots of pink," Rose mutters, staring mutinously at her orange. She peels it carefully, collecting all of the peels in a pile.

"Rose," Emmett sighs, "She's not going to forget your birthday. If you don't want her to plan a party, just tell her."

Rose sighs, too. "What I'm planning on doing, is planning the party, telling her about it, and then no one's feelings get hurt. Probably."

"She'll still bake you a cake," Edward says quietly.

"But maybe it won't be as tall," Emmett says hopefully.

"And maybe she'll let you control the guest list," I add.

"But there will be pink, won't there?" Rose groans.

The three of us exchange glances, and then nod regretfully.

"There's a solution, then," Rose says suddenly. "I won't have it at home, obviously. But I won't have it at your house, either. Or Bella's. Let's go somewhere. Port Angeles? Seattle? No, I know. Let's go to Portland."

"Portland is four and a half hours away. Could you really stand to drive for that long?" I ask.

"Seattle is three hours away, if you take the ferry. Closer to four and a half if you drive the whole way. It's not that much of a difference."

"Let me rephrase that. Could you stand to be in a car with Emmett for that long?"

"Hey!" Emmett says. "I resent that." He reached across the table and pushed my shoulder gently.

"Oh," I cry dramatically. "I'm injured. Broken! You've damaged me, you hooligan!"

Rose stands and puts her hands on her hips. "Emmett! How dare you? Apologize right this instant!"

Emmett and Edward just look at us in disbelief. Emmett slowly shakes his head. "When you're done being dramatic, I'll make my suggestion."

"Duly noted. Now, apologize."

"Nope." Emmett stuck his tongue out at me.

I curled my hand into an o, and mimed shooting a dart at him. "You're frozen." (1)

Emmett groaned.

I beamed and turned back to Rose. "Please, don't pull the dart out of his neck."

"No prob. Of course, we don't have to go so far. Maybe Port Angeles would be better. Boring, but possibly better. And cheaper," she mutters.

"Yep," I say thoughtfully. "Or we could just hit La Push beach."

Emmett makes a noise of irritation.

"A picnic! Or a bonfire!" Rose says, clapping her hands excitedly.

"For three people?" Edward asks doubtfully.

Rose shakes her head. "Five, at the very least. We'll have to include yourself and Angie. And I guess Ben. So six?"

"So," I say hesitantly, "Maybe not a bonfire, but a normal fire?"

Rose huffs. "Okay. But we have to make s'mores."

I nod. "Good plan."

The bell rang, then, and we all started to leave. About halfway across the cafeteria, I notice Emmett isn't with us. "Oops," I say, and turn around to see him, still frozen, sitting at our table. I run back and pull the dart out of his neck, and muss his hair. "Come on, slowpoke!"

He grabs me and starts tickling me. "Don't do that again!"

"Stop!" I gasp between laughs. I'm notoriously ticklish.

"Promise, Belly. Promise you won't do it again."

"I prom...ise...Emmy!"

"What?"

"I promise!"

Emmett groans, but stops tickling me. I'm still letting out little hiccups of laughter as we exit the cafeteria.

Outside of my classroom, I turn to him call him a rude name. "But I love you!"

He pokes me. "Love you, too, Bella boo."

* * *

A/N: (1) Dart game: I don't know if this is played elsewhere, but where I'm from, we shoot "darts" at each other. If you make eye contact with someone, and they "dart" you, you generally freeze. In more relaxed game play, you just freeze, but if you play the more extreme version (frowned upon in school situations) you actually fall over, still frozen. You're frozen until someone pulls the "dart" out of your neck. And basically, that means they can poke you, hit you, etc. until you're unfrozen. Or, they can just leave you there. It's ridiculously fun.


	12. Things Fall Apart

This is unbeta'd because I'm very impatient. I'll probably repost a beta'd edition later, but if there are glaring discrepancies, don't hesitate to tell me!

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or the characters thereof. I also don't own Chinua Achebe or his poem "Things Fall Apart", Jeeps, or even my own Jeep, which is lame.

"Things fall apart; the center cannot hold  
...The ceremony of innocence is drowned;  
The best lack all conviction, while the worst  
Are full of passionate intensity."  
-Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe

Chapter Eleven - Things Fall Apart

Tuesday, March 31, 2009  
Tuesdays with Edward were interesting, to say the least. Sometimes he was normal, and other times... not. Now that we were friends, I had some expectation that he'd glare at me a bit less, and normally, that was true.

But on Tuesdays, all bets were off.

Take now for example. We're in Physics, supposedly listening to lecture. Instead, I'm doodling and Edward is drumming his fingers in irritation, disregarding any concerned looks I throw at him. Once, when he caught me looking, he glared at me until I looked away.

We're friends now, right?

But that doesn't mean we're, like, good friends.

Anyway, for whatever reason, Rose has been pissed all day, too. Super pissed. I'm not sure what to do about that, because she's refusing to talk to me and and Emmett.

Emmett, who's addicted to Rose like a crackhead is to, well, crack, cannot stand it when she doesn't talk to him. It didn't take long until he was in a bad mood, too.

So, when three of your four good friends are in a bad mood, you tend to be, too.

I frown, tapping my pencil on the table, just aching for the class period to be over. At this point, there's nothing I'd love more than to just get out of school.

My life is like a soap opera, and it's starting to get absurd.

Starting.

Okay, it's been absurd since I moved here. Who hooks up with someone on their first day? Okay, not hooking up, per se, but, like, who gets a boyfriend that quickly?

That's what's been bothering me all day. When your friends don't talk to you, there isn't much else to consider.

Why did Jasper ask me out immediately? It makes no sense. He never expressed any sort of interest in me before I moved to Phoenix, so it's not like he'd been pining away for me for years, like I did for him. I don't really think I became suddenly hot, so it's not like that's the reason. So...that leaves only one reason, at least that I can think of.

He needed a cover story. I think he and Alice were already together, even before I came. Maybe Edward suspected something, and Jasper dating me was his way of making things look normal.

But that bothers me, too, for obvious reasons. I mean, seriously? Is that all I'm worth? Hiding someone's illicit relationship?

It's sometimes hard for me to reconcile the Jasper I used to know with the jerk running around now. The Jasper I know now would use me. I believe that. But the Jasper who was my best friend in middle school? No way. It kind of freaks me out that someone can change that much in such a short amount of time.

The blessed bell rings, and silently, Edward and I gather our things. We walk from physics to chemistry now, only because we have the class together. It's not like we're...friends. Which seems weird, because we are, but not good enough friends to walk around together. Edward's too much of a loner, and I...well, I'm a recovering loner. Too much time alone in Phoenix made me that, I guess.

So, don't misunderstand me. Edward and I walk to class, but we don't talk to each other. Yeah, right. It's Tuesday. Maybe one day Edward and I will actually be friends, and he'll tell me whatever Tuesdays did to him. Maybe.

Even Forks cannot avoid March Madness. And yes, it's the end of March, but that doesn't stop Coach Clapp from bringing out the basketballs. And, being a huge fan of equality, he sets us up to play boys vs. girls. Some girls, like Rose, might get excited by this arrangement. But I apparently missed the gene that makes girls excited to beat boys at sports.

I cringe, wondering if I can find someway to get out of this. Doubtful, based on that manic gleam in Coach's eyes.

"Alright! Team captains are Swan and Hale!" Coach announces.

"No!" I choke out before I can stop myself-but it's no big deal, seeing how the rest of my team shouted protests at the same time.

The guys, on the other hand, are high-fiving. Jasper as a captain? Sa-weet. Having me as the opposing captain is just the icing on the cake.

Edward, for his benefit, has the decency to send me an apologetic look. I offer a tight-lipped smile in return, and turn to my team.

"Huddle up," I say miserably. Coach Clapp hates me. It's official. But... "Annie? Being the only one who knows what their doing, are you willing...?"

Annie is on the Lady Spartans basketball team. "Duh," she mutters, guessing what I want. "Okay, guys, here's the deal..." She breaks it down for us, me yelling over her whenever Coach Clapp walks by. Mostly nonsense, like "Jess, you're point guard!"

Actually, I said that every time. Point guard is the only position I know. Sure, I know streetball. But I mostly played one on one with Emmett...having different positions is illogical to me.

Coach Clapp clapped. "Okay, guys. Get out here."

Our team is starting on offense-that much I know. I also realize it instantly when Jasper is the one who has been picked to guard against me. A waste if I ever saw one-Jasper is actually good, and I'm, well, not. Really, it's just an opportunity for him to elbow me.

I spy a glance of Annie, as I duck down to look underneath Jasper's arms. She's surrounded. I grimace, and know what I have to do.

Staying down, I duck under Jasper's outstretched arm-he's a bit too tall to really block me-and move into an open area. "Annie!" I screech.

Jasper is moving to me, but not as fast as Annie reacts. She throws the ball to me as hard as she can.

I'm close to the net-will this be a repeat of fifth grade? I hope I'm better now-I catch the ball and don't hesitate, turning to the net and throwing it. The ball arcs gracefully, but I don't see what happens after that, because Jasper has finally reached me, and knocks me over, and I'm suddenly pinned beneath roughly 200 pounds of teenage male.

A few weeks ago, this position would not have been adverse to me. Now, I feel like I need to shower. For about a week. My skin crawls as I struggle to push him off of me.

Suddenly, Jasper is lifted off of me. I become aware of cheering, and sit up. Edward has pulled Jasper off of me and shoved him a few feet away. He offers me a hand, and I take it, pulling myself to my feet. "Thanks," I say.

"Nice shot," he says in return, and I receive a rare smile.  
"What, I made it?" I say, shocked.

"Yeah. Guess all those after school practices with Emmett paid off," Edward says, smiling slightly.

"Guess so," I agree, grinning widely. "Wait 'til he hears about this."

Annie runs up to me and hugs me. "Excellent job, Swan."

"Thanks." I look around and note the surprise and disappointment on the boys' faces, and the surprise and happiness on the girls'. Even Coach Clapp looks shocked-and somewhat upset.

I'd feel offended if it wasn't merited.

"Switch out," Coach Clapp calls out.

No problem...I don't have two shots in me.

Wednesday, April 1, 2011  
3:00 a.m.

"Hello?" My voice is groggy. I grabbed the phone out of a desire to get it to stop, and then a desire to berate the person calling so loudly.

"Bella? Can you let me in?"

"Rose?" I choke out, suddenly wide awake.

"Please, Bella? I'm outside."

I can tell she's cry, so I practically run down the stairs, mercifully not tripping, and open the door to let her in. She sags against me and sobs.

I stare at her, bewildered. Rose was upset all day, but I honestly wasn't expecting this. My attempts to question her all failed, and it's all I can do to get her to fall asleep.

"What happened?" I wonder aloud.

7:00 a.m.

When I wake up, Rose isn't with me, which worries me, but not enough to freak out. I dress carefully, and stop in the bathroom to brush my teeth before heading downstairs.

"Morning, Bella," Dad says, glancing up from his newspaper.

"Morning," I say hesitantly. "Seen Rose?"

He frowns. "No. Should I have?"

"She showed up here in the middle of the night bawling. I thought she'd still be here." It is the logical assumption...I'm pretty sure.

"She was gone before I got up," Dad says with a shrug. "You should have woken me up if you were going to be letting strange people into the house," he grumbles.

"Rose is not a strange person. As it is, I'm surprised you didn't wake up. She was sobbing quite loudly."

Dad grunts and returns to his paper.

I roll my eyes. Men.

"Emmett, have you seen Rose?" I ask him when I get to school.

"She's hiding in my Jeep," he says, frowning slightly. "Do you want to try to talk her out of there? She yelled at me and buckled her seat belt."

Okay, so Rose had walked back home before Dad got up at 6:30 a.m., just to make sure she didn't seem upset, but then refused to get out of her boyfriends car, effectively removing all doubt.

"Sure," I say, rolling my eyes.

He tosses me the keys. "She locked the doors."

I shake my head slightly. Rose has gone off the deep end. "Thanks."

I walk over to the Jeep and unlock the driver's side door. I hop in before Rose can stop me and turn to her with a grin. "What's up?"

Rose just shakes her head tiredly. "I don't want to talk about it."

I nod slowly. "Okay."

"I'm sorry, though," Rose says softly. "I shouldn't have come over this morning. I just panicked, and knew I didn't want to be alone." She swallows. "You're the best friend I could have right now."

I reach over and squeeze her hand gently. "If you need to talk, I'm here for you, okay? But you don't have to tell me anything."

"Thanks, Bella...And I'm really sorry. I'm being a jerk."

"No, you aren't," I say.

"I am," she reaffirms. "You're just to nice to tell me otherwise."

I shake my head. "I'm honest."

"No," she says. "Not always. You screen things."

"Well," I say gently. "Better censored than rude."

"Not always," she says, but she smiles. "Anyway, I'll take the censored Bella right now. It's better than my stupid family." She seems to regret saying that much, so I don't push her on the subject.

"Are you ready to go to class?" I ask instead.

"No."

I raise an eyebrow, and she sighs.

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Not really."

"Okay, let's go." And with that, Rose hops out of the Jeep as though nothing is wrong and walks on her way to class.

I'm not as quick, watching her walk away. She looks fine, but...something is off. She turns her head slightly, sees me watching her and offers a sad smile.

I smile back, but inside, I feel only more worried. She looks like she's falling apart.


	13. Illusions of Grandeur Collapse

A/N: Thanks go out to anonymous reviewers MoonlitSorrows, Viicky, and vic, who practically ordered me to update. :D Further thanks go to stereomood, the most wonderful website ever. Seriously.

I also must thank my most wonderful beta, Nichi Nara!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight, or the characters thereof. I also don't own Facebook, The Flaming Lips, or their song "Do You Realize?"

**Warnings**: Multiple uses of the words "douche" and "douchebag". It's sort of a gross thing to call someone, isn't it? Also, there's a Facebook Chat conversation. My brain hurts from not using captalization and proper punctuation. Kill me now.

* * *

"You realize that life goes fast  
It's hard to make the good things last  
You realize the sun don'-go down  
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round"  
-Do You Realize? by The Flaming Lips

**Chapter 12 – Illusions of Grandeur Collapse**

* * *

**Wednesday, April 1, 2009**

I wake up today with the explicit knowledge that today will be awful. A single glance at my calendar reveals that. I groan, and consider sleeping all day instead.

I imagine that Mike and Eric have one too many pranks planned for today, pranks that I have no interest in being a part of. And Emmett...oh no.

In the end, I get up because I know Emmett would just come here to prank me if I didn't go to school. Plus Dad would never let me stay.

When I actually arrive at school, though, the group is just as subdued as usual. Rose never bothered to tell us what was wrong with her, and I guess I can't fault her for that. It's worrisome, though, the way she walks around with this haunted look in her eyes.

Via unspoken agreement, none of us have bothered to ask Rose, instead waiting for her to explain things on her own. So, most of the day, Emmett is grumpy, we all manage to avoid pranks, and things are normal. Until lunchtime.

"Get out of my face!" Rose screeches, shoving Jasper away. "Don't act like you understand. You don't; you can't; you don't deserve to! Leave me _now_!"

"Rose, they're my parents, too," Jasper hisses. "I _do _understand."

"Regardless, I'm not going to take your 'empathy'," Rose says, drawing air quotes. "You can't act offended, when you did the same thing to Bella. I can't believe you would do that. You see how much it hurts Mom when Dad sleeps around!"

At that moment, there is a stark silence throughout the hallway, and I realize suddenly that Mr. Hale's infidelity is Forks' best kept secret. No one knew, and now...

Rose looks suddenly horrified, and backs away. "Leave me alone," she whispers, and twists, then runs down the hall. Wordlessly, the crowd parts for her.

Emmett takes off after her, and I glance at Jasper, who looks similarly traumatized. Alice appears at his side, though, and presses a hand to his arm.

I feel suddenly sick, and turn away, walking to class as fast as I can without running.

Edward catches up with me then, looking as disturbed as I feel. "Hey. Let's ditch; you already know what we'll be learning, anyway."

"Edward, we can't just-"

"Why not? You ever skipped before?"

"No," I reply honestly.

"You and I both know we don't actually need to go to class to make the grade," he says, rolling his eyes. "Come on."

"But," I sputter, "Next year-recommendations-we can't just-"

"Yes, we can." He then unceremoniously drags me out to his car, and opens the passenger side door for me.

I gape at him.

"You're meant to sit in the seat, Bella," Edward says, an eyebrow raised.

I scowl at him and shake my head.

He shrugs, and pushes me into the seat. He puts my seat belt on and locks the door before shutting it, and then proceeds to run around the car and get in before I can manage to exit.

Before I know it, we're driving down the highway.

"You up for some hiking?" Edward asks, seemingly out of the blue.

"Sure, why not," I say, still irritated. "Unless you plan on slinging me over your shoulders, running to the top of the mountain, and revealing that you're actually a sparkly vampire."

"A vampire, sure, but not a sparkly one," Edward says.

I squint at him. "Was that, per chance, a joke?" I'm fairly sure it's not; Edwards don't joke. Yet the cadence of his voice clearly indicated humor, not to mention his diction.

He shrugs. "I promise not to reveal that I'm actually a sparkly vampire. At least, I won't reveal it by slinging you over my shoulders and running up the mountain. Fair?"

"You're joking," I say, somewhat dazed. "Actually joking."

"It's Wednesday," he says, as though that explains everything. Seeing my confused look, he says, "It's always darkest before the dawn."

The mystery of Tuesdays, and now Wednesdays, rears its head once again. I sigh.

"I cannot believe you kidnapped me to take me hiking."

"If I had kidnapped you, you wouldn't have come so willingly."

"I'm pretty sure you dragged me to your car."

"Bella, I'm not that strong. You could have fought me off."

"I beg to differ. You're like a foot taller than me and actually have muscles. I am scrawny."

"You said it, not me."

"Where are we going?" I demand, a hint of exasperation-or a bucket of it, depending on your point of view-creeping into my voice.

"To the top of the mountain."

"I thought I explicitly said we shouldn't do that."

"I didn't sling you over my back, did I? And I'm not going to reveal my glittery secret."

I stop. "Seriously, Edward, why are you so light-hearted right now?"

He sighs, and turns around. The joking light in his eyes is gone now, and he looks tired. "I keep forgetting I've only been a douchebag around you. I'm trying to show you I'm different, but I probably shouldn't switch from one extreme to another."

No, probably not.

"Let's go back," he says, and we do. We don't speak anymore.

We've missed the rest of school by the time we return, and the only reason he even brings me back is to let me pick up my truck. The parking lot is mostly empty, except for my car, Alice's, and a couple of faculty cars. I grimace, hoping I'll be able to make it home without seeing the spiky-haired girl.

"I'm sorry, Bella," Edward says, and then drives off.

I frown, still irritated by his weirdness. I can't really blame him for taking me out of class. I appreciate that more than anything else, and I really could have stopped him. Still, I'm not very excited for Dad to find out.

"Bella!" I turn, and to my surprise, and immense displeasure, see Jasper running at me.

"What do you want?" I ask when he reaches me, letting my anger show through.

Jasper scowls. "I don't really want to talk to you either, slut."

Huffing, I spin away from him. "Get lost, douche."

Jasper sighs. "Look, I...I'm worried about Rose. She won't talk to me about it, but I know you're her best friend. Will you talk to her? Try to get her to open up?"

I'm suddenly reminded of why I liked Jasper in the first place, and why so much of me aches to know he doesn't feel the same. I don't turn to look at him, but I nod. Opening my door, I say, "Yeah. I'll try again."

Jasper doesn't answer, opting instead to just walk away. Typical.

* * *

That night, I actually log onto Facebook to see if Rose is online. She's not, but I browse through notifications and confirm a couple friend requests, from Annie, the basketball player, and surprisingly, Edward.

I wonder if being Facebook friends will make us better friends in real life.

Well, it's never happened before, but hey, there's a first time for everything. Maybe.

Probably not.

I'm about to log off, until I see that Rose has logged on. Quickly, I send her a message.

Me: rose? can you talk?  
Rosalie: yeah what's up  
Me: what happened  
Rosalie: what, with my best friend disappearing when I needed to talk to her today?

I grimace in real life, and realize suddenly that I should have been with Emmett when he chased her down.

Me: sorry, rose. edward kidnapped me, literally. he dragged me to his car.  
Rosalie: w/e. i don't wanna talk a/b it, tho. would you wanna talk a/b how you accidentally revealed your dad's affair to all of forks?  
Me: i see your point...what's been so bad about these last few days, tho? you've been down all week.  
Rosalie: it's only wednesday.  
Me: haha, ik, but still.  
Rosalie: i don't wanna talk about it.  
Me: ok.  
Rosalie: do you think love is real? that it can work? i mean, your parents are divorced, my dad cheats on my mom, and don't forget jasper and alice. what if emmett and i don't last either?  
Me: trust me, if someone would last, it'd be you two.  
Rosalie: thanks...gtg now. dad's calling a family meeting. :/  
Me: good luck  
Rosalie: thanks

I sit back, and watch Rose's green dot turn grey, before I drop my face into my hands. What a mess love's made...

* * *

An hour later, my phone buzzes. I answer it without looking to see who it is. Most of my attention is focused on the casserole I'm making.

"Hello?"

"Bella! Have you seen Rose?"

"Jasper? No, I haven't." Just then, there's a knock on the door. "Just a minute. This might be her at the door." I walk over to the door, more than a little peeved that Jasper felt it was okay to call me. Talking to me at school is one thing, but a girl's phone number is something to be respected. Seriously.

When I open the door, sure enough, it's Rose. I cover the mouth of my phone with my hand. "This is Jasper. Do I tell him you're here?"

"Absolutely not," she responds, and brushes by me to collapse into Dad's favorite seat.

To the phone, I say, "Sorry, that was just my neighbor. I haven't seen Rose."

"Call if you do," Jasper pleads.

"Sure." _Yeah, right._

I don't want to tell Jasper she's here, but if it were his mother, I'd let her know pretty quickly. So, I perch on the couch, facing her.

She's staring blankly across the room. "It's over," she says sorrowfully.

"What?" I ask gently.

"I don't have a dad any more." And then she starts crying, and I move across the room to pull her into my arms.

"What do you mean?" I ask gently.

"You know how rumors spread here. Dad heard that his secret was out...by noon...and tonight he said he was leaving this town. Says he can't take it." She wipes her silent tears from her face and then presses her face into the crook of my neck. "Bella...he tried to take me with him. But I...no...and he..." She starts to sob.

"Rose," I say, firmly. "The other day when you came to school so upset, what happened?"

"That night I snuck over to your house...I...Mom was out with friends. Alice came over. Dad came home, played nice. And we were watching TV, all of us, and there was a knock, and Dad brought this woman into our house. He took her to the bedroom. To the bedroom he shared with Mom. I banged on the door until he opened it, and then I screamed at him that he was the worst father ever, and he tried to grab my wrist and make me shut up but I pulled away and...ran."

"Rose..." I whisper, horrified for her.

"I ran all the way to La Push, and almost jumped off the cliffs. Only, not for recreation, but...you know. I was going to, but then I thought of Emmett, and...I couldn't. So I walked to your house. I was soaked but you let me in and all I could think was that no one ever cared about me like you do, except maybe Emmett and Esme."

I rub her back. "You're my best friend," I say simply.

"Bella, I hate my dad for what he did...for what he's doing...to my mom. But I don't want him to leave. I just want him to be good."

I don't have anything to say to that, but then I don't have much to say about anything right now. I can pretend all day that because my parents are divorced, I understand her situation. But I don't, and I don't think I ever can.

Later, when Rose is asleep on the couch, I finish dinner. I glance at the calendar, and smile slightly. April Fools. For a second, I wonder how much of today was a prank-Edward being nice, Jasper talking to me...

And then I sigh, and look back toward Rose. No. This isn't a prank. This was real - all of it.


	14. Problems and Possibilities

**Disclaimer:  
**I own nothing. Hollaaa!

**Chapter 13 - Problems and Possibilities**

* * *

I believe in nothing  
Not the end and not the start  
Not the earth and not the stars  
Not the day and not the dark  
I believe in nothing  
But the beating of our hearts

100 Suns - 30 Seconds to Mars

* * *

**Thursday, April 2, 2009**

Rose sleeps over again, which Dad doesn't comment on. Luckily she remembered to bring clothes this time. After we eat dinner, I send her up to my room to sleep. After my shower, I text Emmett to let him know she's with me, and he shouldn't pick her up in the morning.

His response comes quickly. "Did she tell you what's going on?"

I respond in the affirmative, and my phone rings when I start to pull clothes out of my dresser.

"Hello?" I say, stepping into the hallway.

"Hey, so what's going on?" says Emmett.

"Didn't she tell you?" I ask, confused.

"No. She just cried a lot. She wanted to know where you were, actually."

"Yeah, yeah, she already scolded me," I sigh.

"Is she okay?"

"I don't know. Of course Dad and I don't mind her staying here for awhile, but Jasper and her Mom are worried sick about her."

"So are we all," Emmett mutters, and I murmur my assent. "So do you know what it is that's bothered her so much? Is it just a build up?"

"No, it's more than that. I want to tell you, Emmett, but I'm not sure who she wants to know." I hesitate and then say, "She's worried that you're going to fall out of love with her."

Emmett groans at this. "Does she not remember that I changed my college choices to be in the same city as her? Is there a better indication that I love her?"

"Emmy, you've only been dating for a few months. Just give it time, and make sure she knows how much you love her now."

"Okay, Belly. One day, when we're married, I hope we look back at this time and laugh," he mutters.

"We're getting married?" I tease lightly. It's a bad joke, but most things will make Emmett laugh, and that's what he needs.

"You didn't know? I've had this plan since middle school to move to Utah and marry both you and Rose. It will be great," he shoots back.

"Yeah," I say, laughing. "That'd be awesome."

We laugh about that for a while, but I start to get cold, since I'm only wrapped in a towel. Frankly, I'm lucky Dad hasn't walked out and seen me like this. So I say, "Hey, I need to go. Bed time, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, Bells."

"No problem. Have a good night."

"Love you."

"Love you more," I say happily, and hang up before he can protest.

He sends me a text immediately though.

I open it. "Cheater. I love you to infinity." I grin and send "And beyond."

Sometimes, it's nice to remember that Emmett cares about me, too. I smile and go back into my room to get dressed. Rose is still asleep, so I silently slide into the bed next to her and fall asleep without preamble.

When my alarm clock goes off in the morning, Rose grumbles and rolls over.

I don't know how she sleeps so much. I pull myself out of bed, tucking the covers around her quietly. I'm changing when I suddenly realize I haven't done my homework. "Great," I snarl quietly.

Luckily, I have a bit of time before I really need to leave, and I should be able to get it done. If I remember how to do calculus, anyway.

Dad has breakfast ready when I descend the stairs. "Morning," he says gruffly, over a plate of eggs. Eggs are the one thing Dad makes better than me, so I pile my plate up, as well.

"Mornin'," I respond, and take a bite. Heaven.

"How long will our guest be with us?" Dad asks.

"Just for the weekend, if that's okay," Rose says from behind me. She timidly moves into the room, still in her pajamas.

"I reckon that's just fine," Dad says, picking up a heavy southern accent to tease a smile out of Rose. It must be a combination of the accent and the mustache, because Rose actually laughs.

I smile, and hand her a plate. "Eat up, sunshine."

She smiles back, and for the first time in days, I don't worry about her.

At school, Emmett scoops her into a warm embrace. Her feet dangle about six inches off of the ground, but she doesn't seem to mind. "Hey, gorgeous," he says to her.

"Hi," she says shyly, and presses her face into his neck. "Sorry for yesterday."

"Don't apologize to me," he says, and doesn't let her go.

I see Jasper heading toward us from the corner of my eye. "Incoming," I say quietly.

Emmett sees him, too. "Rose?" He sets her down and turns her toward Jasper.

She doesn't move, but to me she says, "You better go. He'll probably be mad you lied to him."

But I'm irritated that he called me in the first place. I tell her so.

She smiles wryly. "Okay."

So we wait as he crosses the courtyard. Alice runs up to walk beside him when he's nearly halfway here.

Rose makes a small sound of irritation and steps forward, so Emmett and I are sort of flanking her.

When he reaches us, Alice looks at us all coolly, irritably. She doesn't speak, but Jasper wastes no time. "Where'd you go yesterday, Rose? Mom flipped out."

"Mom could care less about me," Rose snaps.

"That's not true," Jasper says, but before he can say more, Rose is interrupting him.

"She didn't even try to stop Dad from taking me. Neither did you, okay? I had to fight him off myself."

I flinch, because Rose didn't tell me this version of the story.

Emmett notices and touches my hand lightly. I just shake my head slightly. Now's not the time.

Jasper does look regretful about Rose's words, but he still tries to argue. "What was I supposed to do, Rose? You've always been his favorite."

"Oh, that means so much to me," Rose snaps. "Really, that's great. My cheating father likes me more than my cheating brother."

"Hey," Alice says irritably.

No one pays attention to her. She's protesting something that everyone knows is true. She knows it, too.

Alice Webber may be my least favorite person in the world.

"Come on, Rose," Jasper pleads. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to be a decent human being," she snarls. And then she spins on her heel and storms away.

For a brief moment, we all stand awkwardly in a circle. Then Emmett leaves and I start to follow.

"Bella," Jasper says.

In spite of myself, I stop. "What?" I ask, turning around.

Alice is kind of gaping at Jasper and glaring at me. She seems torn between the two activities, and so her head is spinning in a really comical manner.

I try not to snicker.

"Was Rose at your house last night?" he asks.

I almost feel bad for him. I glance at Emmett. He shrugs. "Yeah."

"You didn't tell me?" Jasper sounds hurt.

It's my turn to gape at him. Is he surprised that I picked Rose over him? Seriously?

Emmett grabs my hand. "C'mon."

I let him guide me away. Rose is safe. Jasper doesn't need to know anything else.

Edward is very non-confrontational. At least, this is what I take from his response to Alice's approach to our lunch table.

Rose and Emmett are being their usual cutesy selves. The argument with Jasper has done wonders for Rose's attitude. She was a lot happier and relaxed, as though she'd just needed to get it off her chest.

When Alice storms over, her eyes on me, I sigh, expecting what's coming. Alice is going to be mad at _me_ because Jasper is being "civil". It's not even my fault, but I'm sure Alice won't see it that way.

Edward is sitting next to me. He tenses when he sees Alice, but other than that, doesn't react.

I consider how to respond to her approach, and finally decide I'm not in the mood for a confrontation, either. I've said my bit to Alice.

That's not to say I'll take it if she starts yelling at me. I just won't start it.

"Hello, Bella," Alice says snidely when she reaches the table.

"Howdy," I respond, my words pleasant, my tone condescending.

Edward, next to me, starts to tremble. Almost subconsciously, I reach over and press a hand against his arm. The trembling stops, but his muscles are still tense under my hand.

Alice notices this and her lip curls up snidely. "So it's true then," she says snippily.

I quirk an eyebrow upward. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"You sure moved on quick," she says coolly.

I give a small laugh of disbelief. "I'm sorry, but even if that were true, you have no room to speak. Who knows how long ago you 'moved' on?"

Despite herself, Alice flushes at my words.

There's something empowering in defending myself from her. I'm not afraid of her, not like I was afraid of Jasper. I realize suddenly that I'm angry at her for freaking Edward out.

He still hasn't relaxed, and even though we're only barely friends, I feel very protective of him. Part of it is biological – I'm still very attracted to him, and there's no way I'm letting Alice have a chance with him again – thus the lioness response. The other part is just my natural tendency to defend the ones who can't – or won't – defend themselves.

And honestly, having Emmett and Rosalie watch silently, while holding on to Edward's arm…this time I don't feel quite as alone. Sure, Emmett and Rose were there last time, but I wasn't as aware of them.

There's also a table between us. I'm not too worried about her striking me again.

"That's hardly the point," Alice says, obviously flustered.

"Oh?"

"No. The point is that I don't want you talking to Jasper any more."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had the right to take away my right to the freedom of speech. Please forgive me," I say sarcastically.

Alice is getting more flustered, as though she's finally realized that she has no argument. "I –"

"Honestly," I snap. "If you want me to stop talking to him, no problem. He's the one who keeps talking to me. I'd prefer to never see him again."

Alice nods slightly, face pink and looking nervous. "Edward," she says suddenly, "I'm sorry."

I scoff irritably, because now Edward is shaking again. "Leave it, Alice. He doesn't want to talk to you."

"I – I – okay." She leaves, obviously confused and embarrassed.

It occurs to me that she's just a kid, and I rub my face tiredly. A kid, but man she makes me tired.

I glance at Edward, who is still tense, staring at the table. I rub his arm comfortingly, and he nods at me, grateful. After a minute, he relaxes, and stands. "I'm gonna head to class. See yah, Emmett, Rose. Bella."

I smile and nod. He acknowledged me, and today he let me touch him without flipping out. He ran off immediately after, sure, but that doesn't change the fact that it's progress.

Maybe…maybe I have more of a chance with him than I thought. Since the break up with Jasper, I've barely been able to think of Edward. But now…he won't be far from my mind much at all. It will be just like January and February.

Maybe that's not good – I was so easily distracted then. But at the same time…

I bite my lip.

Maybe.

* * *

A/N: I know, this is pretty short. Painfully so. But I will hopefully upload another chapter by the 10th, which is just 4 days from now! This is crazy, I hope you realize, for me to upload so often. Seriously.

Anyway, I realized this was straying into more of a Rose/Bella friendship story, so I tried to remind myself that this is a Bedward story, first and foremost. Hope this satisfied that!


	15. One Small Step

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, and am not remotely ashamed that I used a Winnie the Pooh song to set the mood for this chapter. YOLO, as they (I) say.**

* * *

**Chapter 14: One Small Step**

* * *

I wanna call your name forever  
And you will always answer forever  
And both of us will be  
Forever you and me  
Forever and ever**  
- Forever and Ever - Winnie The Pooh**

* * *

**Monday, April 6, 2009**

* * *

Monday morning, Emmett picks us up for school. "I got lonely without you guys," he says by way of explanation. "And Edward is here because he thinks we're wasting gas."

"We are," Edward mutters.

"We can afford it," Emmett says, rolling his eyes. He says it in a joking way, reminding Edward that he really doesn't mind having him around. They have an easy way of interacting that I usually don't notice, because I've been so focused on Rose and Jasper.

I always thought Edward was a bit awkward in social situations. He never really seemed to like people. But now that I think about it, there's a certain fondness in his voice when Emmett and Rose come up in conversation. And maybe one day, he'll use the same tone with me.

At the very least, I want to be his friend.

"The wasting of finite resources is everyone's business," Edward says snippily.

I snort, Rose snickers, and Emmett rolls his eyes.

"Forgive me," Emmett says drily. "I know you just wanted to hang out with me anyway. I _am_ pretty awesome."

"That's it, Emmett," Edward agrees.

If I wasn't watching him, I would have missed the tiny movement of his eyes – a quickly flicker toward me.

Well, that's interesting.

Does this mean he decided to ride with Emmett this morning because Emmett decided to pick Rose and me up? Did he want to see me before school?

Immediately I dismiss the idea. It's a ten-minute car ride – if that – and that's hardly worth it. Besides, I'm probably overreacting to a tiny eye movement. He probably watched a documentary on global warming and thought that by not driving his own car to school, he could save the world.

Of course, the amount of gas he uses is really just a drop in the bucket. And Edward is the type to know that. I think.

So…did that flicker of eye movement mean something?

Bella, stop obsessing, I think to myself firmly. I'm not going to be stupid about this – I'm barely over my last boyfriend. Now is hardly the time to be thinking about _another_ boy. Especially one like Edward, who can't seem to settle on a way to act around me – kidnapping hiker or angry emo kid.

Actually, the two portrayals aren't mutually exclusive.

* * *

Alice tries to talk to Edward again. I'm not there when it happens, because, as per usual, Edward leaves the lunch table before the rest of us.

When I get to biology and take my usual seat next to him, Edward is angry and shaking.

"Edward?" I ask hesitantly. It's not Tuesday, so it should be fairly safe to talk to him now. "What's wrong?"

He glances at me. "Alice tried to apologize again."

"Oh," I say. "Gotcha." I try to think of how I felt when Jasper talked to me – of course I was angry, but I can't remember if I had a really strong desire to talk it out, or if I just wanted to be completely left alone. Of course, Edward might not be like me anyway, but if he wanted to talk it out, I at least would understand what he's going through more than, say, Emmett.

I start to open my mouth, but Edward is already speaking. "It's infuriating, really, that she won't just leave me alone. She, of all people, knows how I feel about - " he stops, sucks in a breath, and continues, "I have abandonment issues and for all intents and purposes, she abandoned me. I don't want her to come back, because I'm too scared that she'll leave again."

I'm stunned at the level of information Edward has revealed to me. He seems to realize he's said more than our relationship requires, and drops his gaze to his lap. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to unload on you, it's just…you understand being angry at them. More than the others. They hurt you, too, and I know you trusted Jasper, so…" His voice trails off and he doesn't raise his head again.

I shut my mouth, realizing I'm gaping, and whisper, "Yeah, I…I understand." I don't know what else to say, so I don't say anything, and awkwardly look down at my own hands.

Sure, I want Edward to like me. I want to be his friend. But this is more personal than I'm ready for, and probably more than he was ready to tell me.

We don't talk for the rest of the day, and I can't help but wonder if my lame response to his deep confession completely ruined any chances of us being friends one day, or if it was his confession. I hate the idea that one conversation can ruin everything.

* * *

**Thursday, April 9, 2009**

* * *

Rose confronts me during yearbook. "Okay, what's wrong with you and Edward?"

"Um, nothing?" Lie.

"You two can't even look at each other, let alone speak to each other. And you were getting along so well."

"I don't know, Rose, we're not really friends." Lie. Sort of.

"Whatever, the past few weeks – like when Alice charged over at lunch that one day – the two of you have been friends. In fact, I'd guess he has a crush on you."

"We're just victims of the same circumstance." Truth. The idea of Edward having a crush on me makes me blush, but I hold my head high. I blush often enough that she might not read anything into it.

"Mmhmm, a circumstance you _were _using to get closer to the guy you have the hots for," she snaps, shooting me a look that says 'I didn't forget about your midnight confession.'

"Well, I'm not anymore," I mutter.

"Why?" Rose asks. "You definitely have a chance with him."

"Not interested." Lie.

"Liar."

Crap.

"Come on," Rose coaxes. "Tell me what happened. Did he yell at you Tuesday morning?"

"No," I say with a sigh. Rose will not be easily dissuaded from this line of questioning. I reconsider the reason we quit talking and wonder how stupid I'll sound. Edward had a legitimate reason to be embarrassed. I just feel awkward and unsure.

"So, what then?" Rose prods my side. "Tell me. I'm your best friend, still, right?"

"Forever," I confirm, and rub my face tiredly.

"So, tell me," she pleads. She moves her desk closer to mine, so we're seated just inches apart. There's a movie called Shattered Glass playing – something about a journalist who makes all his stories up, and then gets caught – and we're supposed to be watching, but Mrs. Murphy won't be testing us over it or anything. A couple students (like Alice) are watching it so they don't have to converse with the rest of us, but most of the staff is huddled in clusters, passing gossip around. Like Rose and me, I guess.

"I think Edward is embarrassed," I hedge. Maybe if I open it that way, I won't seem as stupid. "Alice tried to talk to him again on Monday, at the end of lunch. I just tried to calm him down afterward, you know, because that's friendly, but I think he feels like he opened up too much. Plus I didn't really react well to what he said."

"What'd he say?" Rose is insatiable.

"Just stuff about his abandonment issues and how he doesn't want to talk to Alice because he's scared if he let's her back into his life, she'll leave again," I mumble.

"Huh," Rose says. "That is a bit much to tell you this early in the relationship." Pause. "How did you react, then? You said that was part of the problem?"

"Not well, I kind of just…stared at him. And he tried to backtrack, and say that he wanted to talk to me because I would understand, you know, because of Jasper, but I don't, really. I do, to an extent, but I had no idea what to say about him feeling abandoned – and wow, I seriously screwed up."

"Yes," Rose agrees. She placates me with a hand on my arm. "But you could apologize for freezing up, and maybe try again? There's ample opportunity, right?"

"Yeah," I say hesitantly.

"You should go for it," Rose says. She leans forward, propping her chin up on her hands. "I'm sure you've caught on to the fact that Edward doesn't make friends well. He's basically got Emmett, me, Angela, and now…maybe you. He doesn't open up to people much at all, so even though it seems like it's too soon for him to tell you something like that, the fact that he said it at all means he wants to be your friend. And frankly, he needs friends."

"All right," I say at last, and Rose pats my hand.

"Good."

We turn our attention to the movie for a bit, and then I whisper, "Hey, how's it been at home?"

"Much the same as usual," Rose says breezily. "Only now Mom can't even stand to look at me. I think she feels guilty about being a terrible parent."

"And Jasper?" I mumble, sensing that she wants to leave it at that.

"Still a douchebag."

I giggle. I can't help myself. "You're the best friend ever."

"Well, thanks," she says, smiling slightly. "Sort of random, though."

"Just that you care about my problems, even though you have your own. And you didn't even call me an idiot for reacting to Edward like that." I shrug. "I totally deserved it."

"Yeah, well, what would that help?" She smiled. "But…I like fixing other people's problems. It makes mine seem less important. Or more fixable. Even if they aren't."

I grab her hand and squeeze it. "See? Best friend ever."

"Forever," she corrects with a smile.

* * *

In biology, after lunch, I decided to make my move.

"Hello, Edward," I say, to show that I was going to behave myself.

Edward didn't respond.

For a second, I considered leaving it at that. It irritated me slightly that he wouldn't even respond to my casual greeting. But then I realized I'd look like an idiot if this were the whole extent of me reaching out to him. So I swallowed my irritation and my pride, and tried again. "I just wanted to apologize. I know I was kind of awkward about what you said on Monday. I was just surprised, and honestly, I didn't know how to react. And I don't judge you for what you told me, or anything, I was just surprised, and…" I stop, because it's about to become word vomit. "Sorry."

He looks at me oddly, quirks an eyebrow and then grins crookedly. "Apology accepted." And then shaking his head slightly, adds, "I wasn't mad at you, for the record. I was just embarrassed, and since you weren't talking to me, I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with me."

"No," I gasp, "Definitely not. I was embarrassed, too. I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

"Kind of," he agreed, smiling slightly.

I narrow my eyes at him. "You're acting extremely out of character."

"I think I'm just relieved you don't think I'm a retard," he says with a shrug. "Don't get used to this side of me."

"Deal," I say seriously.

* * *

**Saturday, April 11, 2009**

* * *

I thought things would be a bit different after that, but Edward was right when he said I shouldn't get used to his pleasant side. Not that he was unpleasant…he was just withdrawn and had a tendency to glower.

Emmett explained one day that Edward was not, in fact, glowering. "That's just his face," he said dismissively, while we rocked out to his recently purchased Guitar Hero: Metallica.

I didn't care for Metallica, but I liked Nothing Else Matters as much as the next person, and sometimes the game was more fun than the music.

Emmett was beating me – I'd moved up to Expert, and basically, sucked. But what was life without a challenge?

"Huh," I say. "Poor guy."

"Don't be a douche, Bella," Emmett says, laughing.

"Can't help it."

That just makes Emmett laugh harder.

Rose walks into the room. "Guys. I need details on my birthday party. Esme is asking."

"Bonfire, right?" I say, not looking up from the game.

"She wants food information."

"Let her make you food," Emmett says. "It will make her feel better."

"Really?"

"Really. I'll convince her not to buy you a present, if you let her make food."

"Really?" Now Rose sounds excited. Like me, the vast amount of money Carlisle and Esme are willing to spend on their children's friends is disturbing. We're not used to it.

"I'll try," he says. "I'll talk her down on price, definitely."

"Deal." She darts out of the room to go talk to Esme again.

"You don't have any sway over what your mom buys, do you?" I ask, missing yet another string of notes.

"That is correct," Emmett says. "But I'll talk to her, and then tell Rose she wanted to buy her something more expensive in the first place. She will be happy. Probably."

"You're a terrible boyfriend."

"You're a terrible best friend."

"You're a terrible person."

"You're a terrible…bassist…"

"Shut up."

"Too close to home?"

"Shut up."

* * *

Rose came home with me.

"Hey, Dad, can Rose stay the night?" I call when I walk in.

"Open invitation. Mostly."

I grin. "So…like every weekend?"

"I don't see why not," he responds.

I dart into the living room and tackle him. The effect is ruined because he's already sitting down, but he grunts. "I love you, Dad."

"Love you, too, sweetheart. You need to call your mother, by the way. She's freaking out because it hasn't been daily."

"I send her an e-mail every day," I sigh. "Isn't that enough?"

"Not when Renee is involved," he says. "Afternoon, Rose."

"Hi, Charlie."

"What's for dinner?" I ask dramatically, standing up and moving to a seat on the couch.

"If you want me to make it, I'm ordering chinese," he informs me.

"Sounds good," I say cheerfully. "Entertain Rose while I call Mom."

When I ring Mom, she doesn't answer. I leave her a voicemail, assuming she's watching Phil practice baseball or scrapbooking, or learning pottery. Whatever her hobby of the week is. "Hey, Mom, just checking in. Everything is peachy here! Love you."

Back down stairs, I sit down on the couch next to Dad and Rose. "Who's playing?" I ask, because it's baseball season, and both my father and Phil never miss an opportunity to watch a game.

Rose shrugs. "How can you even differentiate between teams? They look identical."

"Different jerseys," I mumble, observing the game. I understood baseball enough to keep up with the game, but I wasn't sure I'd ever enjoy it.

"Can we do something else," Rose asks? "I don't get it."

I giggle and stand. "Come on. Dad, are you really calling for Chinese?"

"Yeah, I put an order in. Hope you don't mind egg rolls and Kung Pao."

"Sounds great," I say, and lead Rose up to my bedroom.

"So you and Edward, huh?" Rose says, wiggling her eyebrows when she jumps onto my bed. She crosses her legs and leans forward eagerly.

"I have honestly no idea what you mean," I say, quirking an eyebrow. I cautiously sit down opposite of her, near my pillows.

"He's being awfully nice to you…"

"If by nice you mean glowering."

"That's just his face, Bella."  
"That's what Emmett said, too. Honestly, if he even wants to be my friend, he'll have to give me a better indicator," I say, shaking my head. "He's very difficult to read."

"True, but think of it this way," she says, reaching back behind me and grabbing one of my pillows. She hugs it to her chest. "What seems like one small step for Bella is one giant leap for Edwardkind."

I look at her doubtfully. "I'm not sure I should dignify that with a response."

"It sounded better in my head." She shakes her hair loose from the bun she'd tied earlier, when she'd come upstairs to watch Emmett and I playing guitar hero. "But my point is, Edward has a giant crush on you. He's just not as obvious as my brother, who is a very different person. And as much as I love my brother, that's a good thing."

I try and deflect the conversation away from Edward and me, because he confuses me and I'm embarrassed at the idea that my own feelings are so visible to Rose. "I'm not sure how you and Jasper ever shared a uterus," I mumble.

It works. "Me either. I think I took all his decency."

I laugh.

But Rose kind of looks down, a little sad. "We were so close, Bella. I don't understand how he could do something like that. He hurt you and he hurt me…he knows what it's like to see someone you love hurt this way. I just don't understand."

That's not what I meant to do.

I reach out and grab her hand. She's hugging the pillow so tightly now I have a hard time doing it, but I hold on until she returns my grasp. "I'm sorry. I feel like I made you choose sides…I know we're best friends, but it must be hard to pick me over your family."

"Some family," she says, sniffling slightly. She doesn't let go of my hand. She tucks her chin over the edge of my pillow. "And anyway, you didn't make me choose. He did. Don't blame yourself for any of this."

I want to. It feels like my relationship with Jasper falling apart caused Rose's family to deteriorate just as quickly. It makes me sick.

"You have to always be my friend," she whispers, pushing the pillow away from her and reaching out for me. I wrap my arms around her waist tightly as she continues speaking. "I know I'm going to college next year, but I need you. I did pick you over my family, and I don't regret that at all, but I need you to be there. I need it to be worth it."

"Of course," I whisper, rubbing her back. "You helped me pick up the pieces when everything fell apart. You're kind of my hero, and you're stuck with me."

"Good," she says, and I heard the tears in her voice before I feel them drop on my shoulder. "Even if Emmett and I break up, please don't pick him over me."

That's a horrifying thought. "I'll keep you both, because you aren't going to break up. But even if you do, I won't pick either of you. I swear. I love you both too much."

"Thank you, Bella."

"Best friends," I remind her.

"Forever," she agrees, and presses her face into my neck.

* * *

A/N: Whoops, I did it again. This chapter focused way more on my BROTP - Rose and Bella, even though there was some progress for Bedward. I hope it's satisfactory.

I'm also aware I said I'd have this up within a week, but...well...I got it up within a month and that's really amazing, I think.

I've also been thinking about whether or not any of my characters are OOC...What do you guys think? I think the one who appears most OOC here is Rose, but I have an argument for that. In my mind, she'd have no reason to hate Bella if she wasn't a vampire meeting a girl who wanted to be a vampire. She's vain in a very quiet way - constantly seeking reassurance that the good qualities she sees in herself are actually there. That's why she's always asking about whether or not Emmett really loves her, or whether Bella will always be there for her.

Thoughts?

Thanks for reading. :) ~Steen


	16. Music

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Except for my laptop.  
**

"And a pair of lungs to sing  
And these simple chords  
That say: music is the language of us all"

- _How To Explain_ by the Cat Empire

* * *

**Chapter 15 - The Music**

* * *

**Saturday, April 25, 2009**

It's quiet on the beach, because, save for Emmett, we're quiet people. The only noise is the crackling of our fire.

Emmett is roasting marshmallows with an arm around Rose, who is all out of sorts. Things, she says, have not exactly gotten better, but they're not any worse, either.

The one bright spot is the full ride scholarship she got to University of Washington, where she'll be going in the fall. She picked out her roommate from the scholarship program, and they've met via Skype.

Emmett changed his first choice university to be UW, but Esme and Carlisle decided they'd rather he lived off campus, and bought him an apartment. He doesn't have any roommates, and I suspect Rose will spend most of her time there, regardless of how well she gets a long with her roommate.

Because Emmett refuses to do things traditionally, and because Rosalie doesn't mind at all, they opted not to go to Prom, which is why we're alone on the beach while the rest of the senior class dances to ridiculous music that, according to the people of Forks, is super hip. Honestly, if it weren't for the fact that I lived in Phoenix for three years, I wouldn't even know who Lady Gaga was.

So here we are, on the beach, "celebrating" Rose's birthday. Strangest party I've ever seen.

Edward is plucking the strings of Ben's acoustic guitar aimlessly. He's not a guitarist; he informed us when he took it from Ben. That was all he said, but he obviously has a good ear, because he's plucking out the main melody of P!nk's "Please Don't Leave Me" with only a little hesitation and error. No chords, just the sound of her voice.

We're sitting like this – Emmett, Rose, Me, Edward, Ben, and then Angela. I say, "How do you know this song, Edward? I haven't heard it on the radio here."

He gives me this look, like he's questioning whether I'm an idiot. "I don't listen to the radio. Bad signal at our house." He misses a note and repeats the phrase until he's got it right. "Youtube is where I listen to most of my music. In Arizona, it was easier to keep up with the popular music, and the other stuff, too. Takes more effort here, but I manage. It's more rewarding, anyway."

I'm nodding my head in agreement, when I realize what he said. "Arizona?" I question. "You lived in Arizona?"

His face shifts to "oh, crap".

"What part?" I ask, not dissuaded.

"Phoenix," he answers, not sounding happy that he revealed it. "Until my mom moved me to Seattle. Adoptive mom, I mean."

"That's where I lived," I say, suspicious. Is this why he hated me so much? Did he know me in Phoenix? I try to remember if I ever saw him while living there, but I draw a blank – and why not? Those three years were a blur of faces I never bothered focusing on. I curse myself, now. Three years of self-inflicted loneliness – what kind of idiot was I? There had to be nice people there.

But everything was easier in Forks. Well, except for music.

"Yeah," he agrees, turning his attention to the guitar again. Now he plays "I Dreamed a Dream" from _Les Misèrables_.

"Did you watch the video of Susan Boyle singing this?" Angela asks. She must sense the tension between Edward and I, and like a trooper, seeks to break it.

"Yeah," Edward nods, seeming relieved. "She's got a beautiful voice."

"Amazing, really," Ben agrees.

"Weird that everyone is so shocked by it, though," I mutter.

Edward glances at me, seeming amused. "Why is that?"

"Why _should_ it be surprising?" I ask. "Obviously, in the music industry, beautiful people are more popular because they have the added benefit of looking _and_ sounding good. But what does it say about our society that the first thing people say about her is 'Oh, it's amazing she sounds so lovely _despite_ her looks'?"

Emmett eats a marshmallow, and says, "I never have that problem."

"Yeah, 'cause you can't sing," Rose snickers. She's watching us now.

"People are brainwashed," I say, reaching across Rose to steal Emmett's roasting stick. "And stupid. They don't bother to think outside of the 'pretty' box. Just because most of the popular talented people are generally considered good looking, they think everyone with talent has to possess good looks. That's inaccurate."

"Of course it is," Edward agrees. "But can you blame them? There's obviously an unfair balance of looks vs. talent."

"Cee Lo Green and Paris Hilton would argue with you," I inform him.

That makes Edward laugh. "No they wouldn't," he says. "Paris not only knows she's attractive, but thinks she's good at making music, too. And Cee Lo is good at making music – "

"Obviously," I break in, rolling my eyes.  
Edward kind of smirks, but continues. "And he probably thinks he's the cat's meow in the looks department."

"Did you just say 'cat's meow'?" Ben asks, his nose wrinkled.

"Shut up," Angela admonishes, curling into him.

Sweet in the most disgusting way, I think privately.

"It's okay if they don't argue with you," I say, in response to Edward. "I'll do it for them. Because obviously we know the truth."

"Okay, sure. But a lot of people don't know who Cee Lo is," Edward says, shaking his head slightly.

"Yet," I say simply. "His music is too good not to get him recognition. Besides, people love 'Crazy'."

"True," Edward says, and as though I've cued him, starts plucking out that tune.

"Do you have perfect pitch?" I ask, because the way he instantly starts playing songs by ear, despite not being a guitar player, is impressive enough that I'm jealous.

"Not quite," he says, shrugging. "I don't think I'm playing it in the right key. But I'm pretty good at playing things by ear, I guess."

"Apparently," I agree.

Just then, we hear a loud bark of drunken laughter.

"Here comes the cavalry," Emmett says darkly. He stands up. "Time for cake."

Esme finally convinced Rose to eat cake and open at their home, by reminding her that when Prom got boring, seniors and juniors were going to show up at the beach, drunk off their heads and get in the way of our fun.

Ben takes his guitar back while I throw some water on the fire. It goes out easily enough, and Emmett starts collecting marshmallows and graham crackers. We'd made quick work of the chocolate.

We're piling into Emmett's Jeep, with me squeezed between Rosalie's legs in the passenger seat, when we see Alice Brandon pull up in her stupid little car. Jasper gets out of the passenger side, sees us, and waves.

"Shameless," I sigh. At least Alice has the decency to look anywhere but at us.

"I hope she doesn't get pregnant," Angela says, frowning.

Edward coughs awkwardly, and I sincerely hope, for the sake of my sanity, that he is not remembering situations in which Alice may have become pregnant. Sex and Alice do not coexist well in my head. Edward and sex, sure, but not when Alice is involved.

"I don't think they've progressed to that, yet," Rose comments. "Jasper never comes home smelling like sex."

I also have no interest in visualizing the reason Rose knows what sex smells like, because imagining your best friends having sex is disgusting. "Guys. Seriously?" I snap.

"What?" Emmett says, glancing at me with wide eyes. "Rose and I haven't had sex yet. You'd be the first person to know."

I grimace. "Can you skip that?"

"No," they say in unison.

I groan. "There are children in the car."

"We're sixteen, not six," Ben complains.

"Barely," I respond.

"Bella," Angela whines.

"No, she's right," Edward agrees. "Think of the kids."

"Aw, guys, seriously?" Ben says.

The Jeep is filled with laughter now, and none of us seem to be able to stop. Finally, Emmett reverses out of the space, still snickering. Rose turns the music on and seems to insist on keeping it on the same rap station she had it on for my first date with Jasper.

I could feel really awkward because of the reminder, but I decide not to, because Rose is trying to dance with me in her lap and rapping along with the lyrics. It's funny to imagine Rose listening to this music alone, and learning all these words, because it seems so out of character for her. I would have picked some indie artist for her, or maybe sixties music. Not rap (which, like all music in Forks, is about six months past popularity).

So I'm laughing while Rose's flailing arms bump against me and Emmett is checking her out every few minutes, because she's most beautiful when she's happy and right now she's happier than I've seen her in months.

The ride seems too short, but maybe that's because I can't stop laughing, even now, standing on the Cullen's lawn.

Rose races Emmett to the door and the rest of us follow along at a more leisurely pace, because inevitably, Emmett will let Rose win, pick her up at the finish line and kiss her deep enough to make the rest of us blush. But they're sort of perfect in their nearly cliché way, because they've always known they loved each other and no one else. It's beautiful in a heartbreaking way, because I can't imagine feeling something like this. If they ever broke up, it wouldn't just destroy them, it'd destroy me. Because if I had to pick one of them, I wouldn't be able to.

How am I supposed to survive without them next year? I wonder. The time I spent in Phoenix wasn't surviving; it was falling into a catatonic state that made everyone around me suffer. I can't do that again, I vow.

* * *

"This is the best cake ever," Rose announces.

Esme beams. "I baked it from scratch," she says happily. "Old recipe."

Emmett leans over and stage whispers, "If by 'scratch' she means Duncan Hines."

"Emmett!" Esme snaps. "Don't tell family secrets."

I snicker. "It's good, anyway, Esme."

"Thanks, Bella," she says, sniffing. "If you must know, the recipe does include Duncan Hines, but I don't follow box directions."

"Good for you," I say, nodding. "Box directions are for suckers."

"Don't make fun of the culinary untalented," Emmett says, reaching over and pushing my shoulder.

"Emmett obviously got the short end of the stick when it comes to looks and talent," Edward says solemnly.

"Poor soul," I agree.

"I can hear you," Emmett says, pouting.

Rose kisses him. "I think you're talented."

"What about my fantastic good looks?" Emmett prods.

"You're above average," Rose says, shooting me an exaggerated wink.

Edward, Ben and I snicker. Angela rolls her eyes.

"Wow, who's not getting her present tonight?" Emmett says, and then dramatically, gestures at Rose.

"Did I say 'above average'? I meant subpar," Rose says drily.

"I've never been the victim of such ignominy in my life!" Emmett exclaims, turning away from her.

"Don't hurt yourself using such large words," I say.

"What, are you not sagacious enough to understand? I apologize, Bella; I'll try not to do it too copiously."

"You know, Emmett, your extensive vocabulary makes up for your subpar looks. I've decided that I love you," Rose says, nodding.

Emmett now looks conflicted. Accept the love or reject the insult?

It looks like he's having a serious moral dilemma, so I say, "You can have my present, Rose. I don't mind you insulting my best friend."

Emmett pouts. "Ex-best friend."

I gasp dramatically. "You're breaking up with me?"

"Yes," he says, nodding sadly. "I'm leaving you for Edward."

Edward frowns. "Don't include me in your shenanigans, Emmett."

Angela pipes up now, "Can everyone stop using SAT vocabulary? I'm sort of tired of studying for it."

"I feel the greatest of chagrins," Emmett says, placing a hand over his heart. "Forgive me, fair maiden."

"Granted," Angela says with a small smirk.

Emmett turns to Rose now. "Given that I have been forgiven for an unjustifiable wrong, I will now in turn offer you forgiveness, should you choose to accept it and promise to henceforth refer to my looks properly. Meaning that you acknowledge them fully."

"I suppose the terms of your surrender are acceptable, and as proof of my acceptance, I will remind everyone that Emmett is the most beautiful boy I've ever met," Rose says, nodding.

Emmett smugly crosses his arms. "Why thank you, darling."

"Is it time for presents yet?" Rose asks, ignoring him.

* * *

Rose is still exclaiming over her presents when Angela and Ben have to leave.

"Thanks for inviting us," Angela says happily, hugging Rose tightly.

"Yeah, it was fun," Ben adds.

"Thank you guys for coming. It means a lot. Sorry if we grossed you out in the car," Rose says with a grin.

"We are _not _children!" they both snap together.

That just makes everyone laugh.

"Hey, Edward," Emmett says when they're gone, "Why don't you go show Bella your new Bright Eyes album?"

Edward stares at him blankly. "I don't have a new Bright Eyes album."

Emmett rolls his eyes. "Figure something out."

I catch on. "He has an extra present," I whisper, pushing Edward away from the room. "They require privacy."

"Oh," he says. "Well…I don't have anything new, but you can come see the music collection."

"Sounds great."

Upstairs, I observe Edward's massive music collection. "How is it organized?" I ask. "Obviously alphabetically by artist and album name, but I can't figure out the rest…"

"By release date," he says.

"Intense," I say, stepping back and nodding. Turning to him, I ask, "Did you know me in Phoenix?"

He looks surprised. "No."

"Oh. I was just wondering…because you seemed weird about me knowing you were from there," I explain. "I thought maybe you tried to be my friend while I was there, and like a jerk, I ignored you."

"Nah, pretty sure we weren't even at the same high school." He looks down at his feet. "I don't…hate you…I haven't for a while. It was misdirected anger, anyway."

"Oh," I say, nodding, and looking back at his music. I smile slightly. "Beyonce?"

"What?"  
"Just seems…out of character."

"Why?"

"You just don't seem the type."

He laughs. "I could see that. But I think everyone has to at least respect her as an artist…besides, Crazy in Love is a guilty pleasure. I imagine that's true for most people."

"Yes," I say with a grin. "At least for me." Then, hesitantly, "You're a pretty cool guy, Edward. I'm glad we're friends now."

He smiles, and I see tension go out of his shoulders. "Thanks, Bella. You're pretty cool, too."

"Yeah?" I say, smirking a little.

"Yeah."

"Well, thanks."

He laughs, I laugh, and for a minute, I feel just as comfortable with him as I do with Emmett and Rose. "So which album is your favorite?"

"No fair; that's impossible. Let me do top five."

"Okay, okay," I agree.

From that night forward, there is a difference in our relationship. We're more relaxed around each other, and if things get awkward, we talk about music. I don't ask him about why his adoptive mom moved him to Seattle before the Cullens adopted him, or what happened to her. He doesn't ask me why I would have ignored him in Phoenix.

We're comfortable. For now.

* * *

A/N: What, what? Did I update within a week? I think I did. I think you guys should love me forever. (Even if this is another really short chapter.)

But look, this one is totally focused on Bella and Edward, rather than Bella and Rose.

Sorry if you guys were really looking forward to seeing what Rose got for her birthday, but I happen to think that's really boring and I couldn't think of anything symbolic enough anyway. So...

Please review? I don't usually ask. But it'd be cool if you did, and didn't just write "please update more" (I'm looking at you, anon).

Merci!


	17. When Family Comes Second

"Life's too short to be sittin' round miserable  
People gon' talk whether you doing bad or good, yeah  
… Turn it around with another round."

- Cheers by Rihanna

* * *

**Chapter 16 - When Family Comes Second**

* * *

**Sunday, April 26, 2009**

Rose wakes me up in the morning. "I'm hungry," she informs me.

I groan and pull my pillow on top of my eyes. "Go eat something. Dad's up."

"It's weird if you aren't there," she whines.

"Fine, fine."

True to form, Rose had come home with me after the party. She hadn't wanted to come down from her great mood by going "back _there_," she had informed me.

No problem, except that she was still so excited that she was up at eight. We'd been up until 2 at the Cullen's. Six hours isn't enough sleep for anyone.

Stifling a yawn, I get up and adjust my clothes. "Let's go, then," I say, walking by her.

She follows happily.

"Morning, Bells. Rose. What time did you two get in last night?" Dad asks. Exactly like the average television father, he's drinking coffee and looking at us over the sports section of the newspaper.

I shrug. "I was the driver. She was the timekeeper," I say, pointing at Rose.

"2:20. Your daughter doesn't know how to drive fast."

"That's my girl," Dad says, winking. "How do you two want your eggs?"

"Easy-over," I say at the same time Rose says "Scrambled."

"Coming up."

"Thanks," we chorus.

"You never told me what Emmett got you," I say.

"Oh," she says, with a tiny smile. "Easier to show you."

I stifle a yawn while she slips a finger inside of the collar of her tee, and hooks around a tiny chain. She pulls it out all the way, and I freak.

"What is that?" I hiss, reaching forward and grabbing the ring dangling on the end of the chain. "Is that an engagement ring?"

"No," she says quickly. "That's why I'm wearing it on a chain. It looks like an engagement ring, plus we figured my family wouldn't approve. It's a promise ring."  
I relax instantly, and examine it closely. "Is it a diamond?"

Rose is blushing. "Yeah. I freaked out, too…I'm still concerned that he spent so much. He swears it wasn't too much, though."

"It is a really small diamond," I say comfortingly. "Jeez. I had no idea he was going to do this."

"Me either," she says, and has a tiny smile on her face. "It's a smaller version of the ring I've always wanted. I never told him, though."

"It looks like you," I say. "Your personality, I mean. Beautiful in a self-aware, but quiet way."

"Awwwh," she says, grinning at me. "That's the nicest thing you ever said to me!" She tucks the ring back into her shirt then, because Dad is back with her eggs.

"Eat up," he orders her. "And happy birthday."

"Thanks," she says brightly, and digs in.

When Dad leaves the room again, I grab her arm. "So how did he do it?"

"He just waxed long about how beautiful I am, you know…" She cuts her eyes at me, grins, and then shakes her head. "It was really sweet. He talked about loving me ever since I was in middle school and knowing that he always would." Her fingers drift up to her neck, where the chain is showing a little. She rubs it. "I know this was way too much, Bella, but I feel really secure in the relationship now."

"No doubt," I agree.

"Turns out I'm just a material girl, anyway," Rose says, shrugging. But she's smiling.

"It's okay," I say, returning the smile. "We _are_ living in a material world."

* * *

**Monday, April 27, 2009**

Mom and I have been playing phone tag for nearly a month. I call her daily after school, but that must be right when she takes her afternoon nap, or something, because she never tries to call again until I'm at school. So I'm understandably surprised when she actually answers the phone.

"Hello?"

"Mom! Where have you been?" I demand. "I've been trying to get ahold of you for ages."

"Oh, just around. Listen, Bella, I've got a surprise for you."

"Shoot," I say, rolling my eyes. Of course she's not going to explain it.

"Phil got signed to a team in Florida!"

"Oh, really?" I say, somewhat interested. "That's cool. So…you're moving?"

"Yes, and I won't be travelling around with him as much, so you could move back in with us!" She says this hopefully, like she's sure I've been pining away for her bad cooking.

"Oh," I say. "I thought you knew that was just an excuse to move back home."

Silence.

I realize how that must have sounded, and backtrack quickly. "I mean, Mom, I miss you a lot, but you know Forks has always been my home. I mean…" I stop, not sure if this is helping. "It's just…Emmett and Rose need me and – "

"And there's a boy," Mom says. I hear the frown in her voice.

"Not really," I answer. "If it was about a boy, I'd move back in with you. Jasper has not failed to make things awkward for me." I flop backward onto my bed.

"He's not the reason you're staying, there's _another_ boy," Mom accuses. "I can't believe you're picking some kid you've barely met over living with your mother."

"That is so not it, Mom," I say, my irritation growing. "You know how I felt about moving away from Forks the first time. I thought you understood this."

"And I thought you had grown up!" Mom snaps back.

"You thought I had grown up? And all this time, I thought it was _me_ raising_ you_."

"Despite what you may believe, Bella, I am your mother, and if I want you to move back in with me, I'll make it happen," she says, angry now.

"Remember last time you forced me to move with you?" I demand. "Do you want a repeat of that? Anyway, Dad has custody of me right now. By the time you got him to transfer custody to you, I'd be 18 and I could do what I want."

Mom's voice is frosty now. "I would have thought you would want to be there, to support Phil and me in this new time in our lives."

"Really, Mom? You, of all people, do not need the support of anyone, let alone me."

She doesn't answer me for a minute. Finally, she says, "I've got to go. We're not through discussing this."

"Sure," I say, trembling. She can't make me leave. I hang up without saying goodbye.

My phone rings only a few minutes later. A glance at the caller ID reveals that Leah is calling me.

I'm still angry, but a distraction sounds great.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bella, it's Leah."

"Hey, there," I say, making my voice as cheerful as possible.

"You busy this weekend? I was hoping I could drop by to learn another recipe. Ammon's birthday is coming up and I wanted to make him dinner," she says, and the request is so adorable I can't help but grin.

"Yeah, that sounds fun," I say. "Do you mind if my friend Rose is there, too? Spending the night on the weekends has sort of become tradition for her."

"No problem. Two o'clock on Saturday sound all right?"

"Yeah, sounds great. See you then."

"All right. Bye!"

"Bye."

Feeling a lot more relaxed now, I roll over and pull my backpack up onto the bed. Homework time!

But, luckily for me, being in mostly senior level classes means I'm just studying for finals. Not a lot of busy work, which means I finish within an hour, and have the rest of the time to log onto Facebook on my iPhone, because the data plan the Cullens are paying for (groan) is a lot easier to use than the dial-up Internet service my dad still uses.

Facebook seems a little dead, though, presumably because everyone else is studying a bit harder than I am for finals. One of the advantages of living in Phoenix was being so much further ahead. Most of the time I spent in school here was spent in review. I didn't have any trouble at all with the subjects they've been teaching.

So, I browse Facebook. I still don't really get the point of it, but it's all right, at least to entertain me until I need to start dinner.

My phone rings again, interrupting my bored scrolling. Mom is calling back. I frown, and make the executive decision to ignore it. Possibly, I'm being immature – okay, I am being immature – but I don't really care. She should have known I would react this way.

After about ten minutes, Dad calls. I groan. She called and tattled, obviously. "Hello?" I answer, cautious.

"Bella, I'm sure you've guessed your mother called me."

"Yeah, I thought so."

"She seems to think I've poisoned you against her."

"She seems to be ridiculous," I answer.

"Why are you so opposed to moving back with her?" Dad asks carefully. "Is it just because you want to stay in Forks, or is there something weird about living with Phil?"

"What?" I'm honestly surprised by this line of questioning. Does he think Phil's been raping me or something? "No," I answer automatically. But the question makes me more uncomfortable than it should. "I mean, Phil's fine. I just really like living here. All my friends are here."

"Well, not for long, so that answer isn't going to work. If it was Phil making you uncomfortable it'd be easier to convince her."

"Phil's fine," I repeat. "He's just not you, Dad. I like living with you. I like living here." I hesitate before saying, "In my ideal world, you and Mom would never have split up."

"Yeah, well, you aren't alone," Dad concedes. "Not gonna lie and say some things aren't easier now, but it's lonely."

"You've got me, now," I remind him. This is dangerously close to emotional, which is something Dad and I don't usually express out loud. But he needs to hear it, I think, so I say, "Please, Dad. I want to stay with you. I don't want to move back in with Mom."

"Did something happen between you two?" Dad asks.

"No," I say. "Not until today. It's really weird, actually, that she's surprised I want to stay here. I would have thought it would be obvious, after the way I reacted in Phoenix."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Dad agrees. He hesitates. "You're sure about Phil? And Renee?"

"Positive."

"I'll talk to her. If it comes to a court battle, I think they'll side with you. But hopefully we can avoid that."

"Okay," I say. And then, in a rush, "I love you. And I mean it."

"Love you, too, kid."

"Bye, Dad."

"Bye."

I curl up at the foot of my bed, my single stuffed animal tucked against my chest. Why did the question about Phil make me so uncomfortable? He'd always been really nice to me, and never inappropriate. Sure, he was only ten years older than me, which was weird, but then he was only eight years younger than Mom, which made it not so weird. Okay, still a little weird, but not awful.

But if I'm being honest with myself…the way he and Mom met has always put a weird taste in my mouth. Not that meeting at a Starbucks is strange, but…I can't put my finger on it. Something about him, in those first several months bothered me.

I chew on my lip. Why is this bothering me so much?

I can't figure it out, though, so I set my teddy bear back on my pillows, and head downstairs. I'll start making dinner a bit early today. That shouldn't cause any problems.

* * *

When Dad comes home, I have the table set. "Fish for dinner tonight."  
"My favorite," he says.

We eat in silence for a while, until I break it with a question. "How did she take it?"

"She's…coming to terms with it. I think she's okay with how things have turned out. She will be, anyway." He takes another bite. "This is really good. Is it Henry Clearwater's fish fry?"

"Uh, no, I made it with a recipe I found online. She's not going to take you to court?" I ask.

"No, I don't think so. Don't tell Henry but this is way better than his."

"Your secret's safe with me," I say and smile slightly. "Thanks, Dad."

"I'll give a compliment where it's due," he says, but I can tell he knows I meant thanks for talking to Mom.

* * *

**Tuesday, April 28, 2009**

Emmett and Rose are duly outraged when I tell them what Mom tried to do.

"That seems really out of character," Emmett comments. "I mean, she did it a few years ago, but to try it again now…"

"It was strange," I agree.

"What did you say your stepdad's name was?" Edward asks suddenly.

"Phil," I say, squinting at him. It's a rare sunny day in Forks, and my eyes haven't adjusted yet.

"Huh," he says, running a hand through his hair. He sounds a little suspicious and angry, somehow.

I quirk an eyebrow, but don't comment. This probably falls into the category of "_Things Edward is unlikely to discuss with Bella_."

"I'm really glad your dad kept you here. I know we'll be gone next year, but Forks is a lot closer than Florida," Rose says. Then she sighs, and adds, "I'm going to miss you to pieces."

"Same," I say with a sigh.

"We'll visit all the time, though," Emmett says. "And you could come to Seattle to visit us, too."

"That does sound fun," I say, slightly more enthusiastic.

"Edward doesn't go to Seattle, though," Emmett says. Which sounds really weird, like he isn't allowed there, or something.

Edward sighs when he hears that. "Really, Emmett?"

"What? You won't," Emmett says, shrugging.

The bell rings. "Of to class, then," Rose says. "See you in Yearbook, Bella."

"Yeah, later," I say, smiling at her lightly.

We all split off, but Emmett runs to catch up with me. "Your dad handled it, right?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm fairly positive," I say. "Hopefully she's seen reason."

"I could call her and beg," Emmett suggests.

I laugh a little. "Thanks, Emmy-bear. I appreciate the offer."

"Anything for my number one girl!" He winks at me.

I laugh more fully, now. "Don't be ridiculous. I've always been number two."

"Bella," Emmett says, gasping and placing a hand over his heart. "Don't be absurd."

I hug him. "Later," I say, grinning at him.

He ruffles my hair. "Bye."

Class with Jasper is just as much fun as it usually is – which can be correctly translated to "not at all".

I spend my time ignoring him and wondering how I'll get the cake I baked for Rose last night to lunch without her suspecting anything. So far, none of us have mentioned that today is her birthday. She's probably not expecting it, since she already had the party and cake.

But I can't just ignore the actual day.

It occurs to me that today is also Jasper's birthday, and I allow myself to feel sorry for him – he doesn't have any friends to celebrate with; he just has Alice.

And he picked that, I remind myself fiercely. I don't want to feel sympathy for him. He's not my friend.

So it's worse today. I'm better at ignoring him, but I've never been the type to hold grudges, and I can't help but feel sorry for those less fortunate.

I chew on my lip until the bell rings and then dart out of the classroom. It's better for me to be far away from Jasper.

* * *

I get Emmett to cover for me after calculus, and rush out to my car. Rushing isn't usually a good idea I'm involved, because I'm not exactly the picture of grace. But I do it anyway, and make it to my car in record time. Luckily, the sun has stayed out, and so the ground, while not exactly dry, isn't slushy.

The cake, stuffed in a cooler, is chocolate with strawberry icing. I didn't have time to make one from scratch, but I figure this might be better, anyway. I've never really baked a lot of cakes – Mom goes back and forth with celebrating birthdays. Most of the time, she's not the type to make cake. In any case, Betty Crocker has a lot more experience baking cakes than I do, so I have decided to trust her on this.

I take my time walking back to the cafeteria, making sure not to damage the cake I worked so hard on icing last night.

Rose slaps a hand over her mouth when she sees me holding it. "You did not!"

"It's your birthday," I say, rolling my eyes and setting it in front of her.

"Oh my gosh!" She seems a little stunned. "Thank you so much, Bella. I kind of thought you guys forgot," she says sheepishly.

"I didn't," I say with a shrug. "And Emmett brought paper plates."

"Yep!" he says, pulling them out with a flourish.

Edward stands up. "I'll go get some sporks."

"Thanks," I say, pulling a plastic knife out and slicing into the cake. "How big, Rose?"

"Giant!" she says, excited. "I never skimp when it comes to cake."

"Excellent," I say, cutting her a bigger piece than I'd planned. "This good?"  
"Perfect," she says, happy.

I slap it onto a plate, and Edward returns with some sporks. I continue serving it up, and everyone thanks me.

Then I feel eyes on me, and I look over my shoulder to see Alice and Jasper. I look back, eyes meeting Rose's. She seems to know what I'm thinking because she nods.

"Got any extra plates, Emmett?" I ask.

"Yeah, just two though. I thought Angela and Ben might sit with us today," he says.

I cut two more pieces and take the extra sporks Edward grabbed. Here goes nothing.

Jasper and Alice stare at me as I approach the table, but they don't move away as I take a seat across from them and push the cake toward them. "Truce?" I suggest. "I know we haven't exactly been friendly toward each other recently, but since it's your birthday, I'm willing to at least…call a ceasefire."

They exchange a surprised look.

Alice turns back to me, a small smile curling on her face. "Tha—"

"No thanks, Bella," Jasper interrupts her, scowling. "I don't want anything to do with a slut like you."

I sigh, irritated. Of course, he wouldn't accept the kindness. It was incredibly frustrating for him to continue treating me this way when all I'd done was stick up for myself. But I glance at Alice, because she seems a bit more reasonable at the moment. She's staring at her hands, which she twists furiously in her lap. "Fine. You can keep the cake, though."

Alice looks up, surprised, and her eyes thank me.

Jasper scowls. "No thanks," he repeats.

I ignore him and walk away. Be the bigger person, I remind myself. Besides, maybe Alice won't be as bad from now on.

When no cake smacks into my back, I figure I've won. I know I have when I glance over my shoulder and see Alice eating the cake while Jasper scowls.

* * *

A/N: Hey hey! Another update within a week. This story could conceivably be finished this year. And that pleases me greatly.

It would be awesome, I think if you guys reviewed with your thoughts. (As a side note, the confrontation with Renee just _happened_. I was expecting a nice happy chapter that developed the relationship between Bella and Edward. Instead, it developed Bella and Alice, and included a fight with Mommy Swan. When the characters take over...)

As it turns out, I officially have a projected timeline for the Bedward relationship to occur. And you guys are not going to like it, because there is some serious stuff preventing it... You'll see.

Please review. I hate begging. But I hate not getting reviews more. :)


	18. Dreams and Despair

I'm so sick,  
Infected with where I live  
Let me live without this  
Empty bliss,  
Selfishness**  
- I'm So Sick by Flyleaf**

* * *

**Chapter 17: Dreams and Despair**

* * *

**Friday, May 1, 2009**

Graduation is less than two weeks away, and Rose is spiraling into panic mode. "What if UW isn't the right choice?" she keeps asking me. "What if I'm supposed to go somewhere else?"

"Like where?" I always answer. "Washington State?"

Not that Washington State University would be a bad choice – it's just that the scholarship they offered wasn't as good, University of Washington was a lot closer to Forks than Washington State was.

Emmett is Emmett, of course, which means he's completely self-assured and unconcerned with whether or not he's made the choice. He's already decided that he has. So whenever Rose worries to him, he pokes her in the side and kisses her nose. "You'll be with me. So yeah, correct choice."

That usually works.

I don't feel so great today; not because I'm on my period. I think I might actually be sick. So when I get home from school, I walked up the stairs and fell face forward into bed.

For a long time, I just lie there, stomach roiling. Eventually, I sit up and strip down to my underwear, suddenly burning up. I crawl under the covers and hide. The sheets are cool and for a moment I feel, not good, but okay.

Then that's over and I'm twisting around until I find a comfortable position; sort of splayed across the bed with my right arm tucked under my stomach, one knee curled up next to my chest and my other foot dangling off the edge of the bed. My left arm wraps around my head. In any other situation, I wouldn't be comfortable like this, but based on the way my stomach is twisting, this works out.

My whole body feels so heavy. I squeeze my eyes shut and hold still, until finally, I fall asleep.

* * *

Mom is standing behind a counter, wearing a Starbucks uniform. She's got a cheerful smile on her face, and she says, "What can I get you?"

Swivel to see Phil, who's reached the counter. "Venti Terraza," he says, warm smile on his face. "Name's Phil."

Mom nods and writes Phil on the cup. "That will be 24 euros," she says, and Phil hands over some cash. Then he's morphing into Edward, who's not looking at mom but glaring at me.

"Don't be nice to Alice," he snarls. "She doesn't deserve it. _And you don't deserve anything_."

Alice gets up from a table and approaches us now. She wraps herself around Edward, and despite what he said about her not deserving kindness, he seems willing to give her a lot more.

I spin away, and run out of the coffee shop while Mom calls out, "Phil, your coffee's ready!"

I'm running, but I pass Phil sitting on a park bench, a cup of coffee in his hand. It's got mom's handwriting on it. "Phil," it reads. "480-555-6873 – Call me!"

I keep running until I find Jasper and Alice curled up on another park bench. "You can't have everyone," I yell at Alice, suddenly scared. "You can't do that!" She has her claws in Edward and in Jasper. How long before she steals Rose and Emmett from me?

And Alice, who's had a face full of manic glee, stiffens. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open slightly. "I…I don't…"

And then it's just her and me in an empty park. She's crying and she reaches out for me. "Bella please, please…"

* * *

A door slams open, jolting me out of my nightmare. What a nightmare, I think, rubbing my head. My stomach doesn't feel any better, even though I've been asleep for over an hour.

"Dad?" I croak. My door opens and I twist in bed to see who's there.

"You okay Bella?" Dad asks.

No, I think. I want my mommy. But I say, "I don't feel too good. Can you order something to eat, or go to the diner? I can't get up…"

"Of course. Can I get you some soup? This isn't…woman problems, is it?"

"No, no," I answer. I push my hair out of my face. It's sweaty and gets stuck to my hand. Ugh. "I think I caught something at school."

"Could it be allergies? The pollen is a lot different here," he points out.

"It's not that…I feel pretty bad. But chicken noodle soup sounds great. You can pick some up for me at the diner," I say and roll back onto my stomach. "Thanks, Dad."

"Sure thing, Bella." He starts to leave, going so far as to close the door, but then he opens it again and pokes his head in. "Renee is going to drive up here to pick you up for the summer."

"When?" I ask.

"June 15th. She wants you to ride with her to Florida."

"A cross-country road trip?" I ask, nonplussed.

"I think she's going to try to convince you to move in with her," he says, shrugging. He looks down. "You know, if you wanted to go, it'd be okay. I'd love you no matter what."

I'm touched, even if this means he hasn't really been listening to me. "Thanks, Dad. But I want to live here. She'll have to try really hard to convince me otherwise. Expect me back in August."

"All right, Bella. I'll bring your chicken soup home after I eat, okay? Sleep some more."

"Thanks again, Dad," I mumble, and push my face into my pillow, in a half-hearted attempt to smother my thoughts. A couple things are bothering me about the dream – the first thing being Edward acting like he hated me, and still being with Alice. That seems extremely unlikely. The second thing is the coffee cup. The number was right, but I was pretty sure Phil asked Mom for her number.

And euros instead of dollars – well, that wasn't that odd. It was a dream, after all. The 24 didn't really make sense, either.

I yawned and turned my head so I was resting on my right cheek. Sleep came quickly, and this time, my dreams didn't feature any real people, just characters from a book I read a few weeks ago doing nonsensical things.

* * *

Dad wakes me up again. "Here's your soup," he says, placing it on my bedside table with a spoon. "You feeling any better?"

"Not as tired," I yawn.

"All right… Let me know if I can get you anything."

"'Kay," I say, and he leaves the room. I eat the soup carefully, trying not to spill it anywhere. It's good, like all the food at the diner. Phoenix and its diverse restaurants were great, but nothing beat diner food.

Speaking of food, I needed to call Leah. I sort of threw my arm toward the bedside table, where my phone was sitting, and grabbed it clumsily. Somehow I managed not to spill the soup I was holding in my hand.

I dialed Leah. "I need a rain check," I say when she answers, not bothering to announce who I am. "I'm pretty sick."

"Bella?" she says doubtfully. "What's wrong with you?"

"Sick," I repeat. Seriously? Was I not clear? Then again, maybe I wasn't. I rubbed a finger over my throat. Was it sore? Not clear? I didn't feel anything.

"Oh," she says. "Well…let me know when you feel better. I appreciate you doing this at all."

"Uh-huh," I say.

"Okay, well, I'll let you go," she says.

"'Kay, bye."

I finish the soup and fall asleep again.

* * *

"Hello?" The sound of a ringing phone wakes me. A glance at the clock reveals that, at least, it is morning time. I still feel awful.

"Bella. Hi." It's Mom.

"Uh, hi, Mom," I answer, pushing my hair out of my face.

"I wanted to apologize for putting so much pressure on you the other day. I hope you're doing all right," she says, and she sounds honestly sorry.

"Oh," I say, surprised. "I guess, uh, it's all right."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to control you; I just miss having you around. Both Phil and I do."

"I miss you, too, Mom," I say. "Is everything okay with you?"

There's hesitation on her end. "I guess I'm just feeling lonely," she says softly. "Phil is so busy with the team, and you're off with your father…"

"Oh, Mom," I say softly, sadly. I can't believe she hasn't made lots of friends or taken up some new hobby. Surely she can't be bored? "Aren't the people there friendly?"

"They're all right, but they aren't family."

Time for a subject change. "I can't wait to go on this road trip with you. It will be fun. We'll have lots of time together then."

"Yes," she says brightly, obviously cheered. "And you're staying with me through July, right?"

"Yeah, of course," I answer. "I miss your enthusiasm for life." And it's true. Mom doesn't do anything halfway.

"Good. You don't sound too good – are you getting enough rest?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm just a little sick. No big deal. It's probably just the pollen." It's not – I'm pretty sure, now that I think about it, that Mike sneezed on me a few days ago. It's probably only now worked its way through my system.

"All right. Is Charlie taking care of you?" she asks.

"Yeah, Dad's being great. He got me soup and let me sleep," I answer. She knows I hate to be fussed over when I'm sick, so Dad's actually been pretty perfect.

"Well, you should go back to sleep. I know from your e-mails that Rose will probably come by later."

"Yeah, she probably will. I'll call you when I'm better, all right?"

"Okay, sweetheart. Sleep well and get better. I love you."

"I love you, too," I say. "Bye."

"Bye, honey."

I consider, again, telling Rose that I'm sick, but I'm pretty sure I'd need to have Swine Flu for Rose to stay away, and even then, she might infect herself just to make sure that we both make it out alive.

Yawning, I settle back down. I'll try to get a couple more hours of sleep before Rose gets here.

* * *

"Bella?" Rose gently shakes me awake. "How are you feeling? Your dad says you've been sick since you got home yesterday."

"I've been better. And worse," I answer, curling up under the covers.

Rose brushes the hair out of my face. "Is it Swine Flu?" she asks gravely.

"I hope not," I answer. "It doesn't feel like the Flu. I think."

"It better not be," is her soft response. She frowns a bit. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No," I say, and she nods.

"I'll be right back with something for you to eat," she says.

"Uh-huh." I'm still pretty out of it, so it feels like she's hardly left the room before she's back with a plate of plain toast. "My favorite," I mumble, eating it half-heartedly.

"Mom says 'No butter when you're sick'," Rose says with a shrug. "She's right about some things, I figure."

"A lot of things, I'd imagine," I say, taking another bites.

"True," she says. "Mostly it's her cavalier attitude toward me and her cheating husband that bothers me."

I blink at Rose, and she snorts. "You look like an owl," she informs me. "I'm not, like, upset, so don't worry. I'm just ready to leave home."

"Yeah," I say. "Big 18, now."

"Uh-huh. I thought about moving out now, but I don't really have anywhere to go. Esme and Carlisle would probably let me sleep on the couch for a while, but not long-term. The only other option would be to move in with Dad, and obviously that's not a good plan." She looks at me again, and frowns. "Sorry, you're not processing any of this, are you?"

"Eh, sort of," I say honestly.

"Can I still stay here?"

"If you don't mind exposure to my germs."

"Nah, that's fine. Do you want me to set up a movie downstairs? Your dad left to go fishing. I'm on Care-for-Bella duty."

"Oh, cool," I answer. "Yeah, set one up. I'll be down in a little bit."

But I fall asleep again, and Rose has to wake me up. "It's ready."

"Okay," I say, and follow her down the stairs. I can't actually bring myself to care that I'm only wearing underwear. I figure we've reached this point in our friendship, anyway. Still, I wrap myself in a blanket on the couch…and before the opening credits start, I'm asleep again.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so first of all, don't flip about the dream. Some of the weird stuff is just weird because...it's a dream! Anyway, no, Bella, doesn't have the Swine Flu, but one of the positive things about this story being set three years ago is that I can Google stuff and remind you about music that was popular then, or everyone flipping about H1N1.

Although I've been updating about every week for the last month or whatever, the next chapter is going to be updated in a 2 week window, because it's going to be mega-huge. I'm hoping it will cover both graduation and the road trip/stay in Florida. So, we shall see.

Final note - thank you for reviewing! If I replied to your review on my brother's account by accident, I'm sorry. I think there were two of you. So if you got a message from stuckdeisel72, that was me. He uses my laptop to read stuff and occasionally forgets to sign out, but I didn't pay attention, and assumed the link in my e-mail still only worked for the actual author. I am now aware that it doesn't, and hopefully it won't happen again.

So, again, I'm going to plead for reviews. You guys are very sweet. Even if your review is "Wow, this was boring" that's okay because this was basically a filler/set-up chapter. So. Let me know your thoughts?

Love you all!

AFitA


	19. Endings

I think I know what's on your mind  
A couple words, a great divide  
Waiting in the wings, a small respite…  
Even though you're the only one I see  
–Slow Life by Grizzly Bear

* * *

**Chapter – Endings**

* * *

**Friday, May 15, 2009**

Dad and I sit next to Esme and Carlisle. Edward is slumped on the other side of them, fiddling with his phone. Esme and Carlisle offered to let him sit by me, but he just shrugged and waved a hand.

Edward and I are friendly now, but neither of us go out of our way to talk to each other; not really. It's slightly obnoxious, but it's a thing.

Right now, the senior class of about 100 people is sitting in folding chairs on the floor of the high school gym, while proud parents and friends are squished into the bleachers. It's a grand time.

The Student Council (all five members) built a wooden stage for the principals and counselors to sit on, and for the graduates to walk across to receive their diplomas. It's about a foot tall, and a podium is in the direct center of it. Very nice.

The valedictorian is giving the usual speech – goals, dreams and aspirations, backed up by memories and anecdotes.

Mrs. Hale is sitting a couple rows away, and Mr. Hale is in the seat next to her, slumped forward, head bowed. It's weird to see him here, given the circumstances. Rose acted upset earlier, when she saw him, but I know she was really pretty happy he bothered to come at all. You don't just stop loving your dad.

Finally, the valedictorian sits down, and they start giving the students diplomas. I'm really glad I'll be graduating from this school, because my graduation in Phoenix would have been about four times longer, which is great when you think about how many students are graduating, but not so great when you only care about one or two of them.

"Emmett Cullen," is one of the first ten people to be called up, and Carlisle and Esme, clap loudly, but politely. I clap, as well, and feel envy when Dad whistles loudly.

"You never taught me how to whistle," I tell him, pouting slightly.

Dad just winks at me and shrugs. "I'll tell you when you're older."

I frown.

There's maybe twenty more people before Jasper gets called to walk across the stage, and just to be nice, I clap my hands twice, and then neatly fold them in my lap. After all, we were best friends for a long time. He deserves this moment even if he is a tool. He's worked hard in school for as long as I can remember.

Next is Rosalie, bubbling and beautiful in the despicable goldenrod robes. She's smiling so widely I think she might cry, but she holds it together and crosses the stage to shake hands with the principles.

I see Emmett whoop and holler in the group of graduates, but a teacher moves toward him with a malicious expression and he shuts up pretty quick. I can't help but laugh as I clap for Rose.

The rest, of course, seems to stretch on forever, as graduations do, until finally they've called the final student (Tanis Wynne, or something like that) and they're all seated again.

But now the Principal is giving a speech of congratulations. Fantastic.

Finally, all the graduates are allowed to stand and form a big circle. They hold hands and sing the alma mater, and at the end, throw their graduation caps in the air.

Finally, it's over.

Our group of five pushes down with the rest of the crowd to get to the graduates. The Hales reach Rose and Emmett first, though Mr. Hale only stays for a brief moment before going to find Jasper.

No problem—Esme made her dislike of the man clear when she saw him sitting with Mrs. Hale.

"Honestly," she said. "I can't believe he'd show up after what he tried to do to our Rosie. The man is entirely too cruel to taint this day with his presence." Then she sniffed and shook her head.

Carlisle tried to console her, rubbing her shoulders and saying, "But sweetheart, she's the only daughter he's got. Surely you can see why he would want to be here for this? He still loves her, and deep down, I'm sure she loves him."

That only made Esme feel a little better.

"Congratulations," Esme says as we reach the group at last. She pulls Emmett into a hug, which is almost comical. Esme is so tiny in comparison. Not that she's a short woman—she's actually pretty tall—but Emmett is so big from all the sports and weights.

To add to the effect, when he hugs her back, he lifts her off the ground to the point that she leans down and kisses his forehead. "My little boy," she says, her eyes tearing up. "All grown up."

And then she's crying and as a family they're all embracing each other: Emmett holding onto Esme, Carlisle stepping in to embrace the pair of them and pulling Edward into the hug, too.

The moment is almost sickening to look at, at least for Dad and me. I grimace and look at Dad. He mimes gagging.

I snort.

Rose wraps her arms around me and tucks her face into the crook of my neck. She doesn't lift me, though I'm sure she could. She just cries onto my shoulder.

I hope I don't cry when I graduate. I doubt I will—that's the benefit of having only older friends. The only benefit, to be honest.

I could cry now. Yeah. But I won't, because I don't cry in public, and Rose needs a rock. Two rocks, if you count Emmett, who is now slapping Edward on the back so hard he almost knocks him over.

In response, Edward punches him in the gut, and Emmett grunts before rubbing his stomach and ruffling Edward's hair.

I smile at the display, and tighten my arms around Rose.

"Best friends forever," she whispers through tears.

"And ever," I answer.

"Good," she says, and leans back, wiping her eyes. "Let's go get food."

Like the entire senior class and their families, we're going to the diner. Hopefully, if we leave soon enough, we'll be able to push a couple tables together. If not, we'll carry out. Either way, we're doing it.

"Go get Jasper and your dad," Mrs. Hale says. She's crying, too, and smiling just a bit, like she just can't believe she just saw her only two children graduate. What a moment.

As a group, we practically run out to our cars. We pile as many as we can in each person's car—we manage to fit all four Cullens, Dad, Rose, and me, into Carlisle's SUV, that he bought (presumably) for situations just like this.

It's obvious Emmett got his reckless driving skills from his father, because Carlisle pays little regard to such things as speed limits and, you know, stop signs.

I think Dad wanted to cry.

Still, we make it to the diner in record time, and push two tables together before the place is even full.

I'm crammed in next to Rose and my Dad. Edward is sitting across the table from me, and sometimes he kicks me. He apologizes every time, but something in his expression tells me it's not an accident. He looks way too pleased with himself.

It makes me laugh, because he's acting like a child, and he should do that more often. He looks kinder.

Emmett has also taken to reaching around Rosalie to prod my shoulder until I look at him, at which point, he blows a kiss.

We're all laughing and the parents are kind of crying, still, but the food is good, and although Jasper and Mr. Hale are kind of being ignored by everyone else, we're all happy. And that's what matters.

* * *

**Monday, May 18, 2009**

School without Emmett and Rose is totally awkward, but luckily Edward and I only have to suffer through about two weeks of it.

I drive to school in my own car for the first time on a Monday since Rose's dad walked out. Once at school, I seek out Angela, but she's talking to Ben and I have no interest in being their third wheel.

It's different, being around Rose and Emmett. Because we're all so close, it's not really like I am the third wheel, or even a chaperone. It's more like Harry hanging out with Ron and Hermione—no one gets left behind.

But it's not like that with Angela and Ben, which is totally fine, because they're young and in love, and not my really close friends, anyway.

So after that, I find Edward. He's sitting alone, in our usual spot, but he's brought an iPod and a set of headphones that make him look very, well, hipster.

But then, I've always kind of known Edward was a hipster, and it's not like that's a problem. People would probably accuse me of being a hipster, too. Not that I am one, but still, it'd be easy to mistake me for one.

I plop down next to him, and lean into his line of sight.

He grins at me and pulls the headphones off, letting them rest on his neck. "Hey there," he says.

"Hi," I say, smiling lightly. "How's it going?"

"Besides Esme wailing every ten minutes that her baby boy is leaving? Pretty good."

I laugh a little, because it's easy to picture Esme doing that. "I bet that's fun," I say.

"Yeah, sure." He's still smiling. "Emmett is insufferable, though. He's just whining about how much he's going to miss us all and that he's sure to gain the Freshman Fifteen. Of course, Esme is eating it up, but all it means for me is that he's constantly bothering me and interrupting my piano playing."

"Aw, poor Emmy," I laugh.

"Poor Edward," he corrects, smiling.

I shake my head. "Aw. You're going to miss him."

Edward nods, blankly. "He's one of the best friends I've ever had," he says honestly.

The admission surprises me. I nod carefully, and tuck the information away in the corner of my mind. It's not often Edward divulges information about himself, so even a small thing like this seems huge.

The bell rings, and I jump, surprised. "Class time," I say.

Edward looks at me, a rueful grin on his face. "Surprised?"

"A bit," I admit, and I stand. "See you at lunch?"

"Yeah," he says, the grin falling into a full smile. "Later."

* * *

In yearbook, we work hard on creating a theme for next year. Angela has great ideas, but the rest of the staff is more interested in clichéd themes that other schools in nearby towns have already done a variation of.

I side with Angela, thinking of all the cool and different things we can do, but for awhile, it's two against five, until Alice pipes up with, "I like Angela's idea about reflections. We could take some really cool pictures with mirrors."

The room falls silent for a moment, as we all stare at Alice.

Since she and Jasper came out as a couple (so to speak), Alice has sort of been the outcast in the staffroom. But no one has ever doubted her skills with photography, and if she says the photos will look good, that's a plus to the theme.

"She's right," I say, looking straight at her.

She flushes when she sees me looking at her, and looks down quickly.

Everyone stares at me, and then finally, one girl, a sophomore who writes for the staff, nods. "If all three of our editors think it's a good idea, maybe we should look into it."

Now there's general assent, and Alice's chin lifts firmly. She's reclaimed her position of power in a swift gesture.

She still can't look me in the eye.

* * *

Edward and I grow together slowly. We don't really have a choice in the matter, given that Emmett and Rose aren't there to buffer our awkwardness.

Still, if a choice was granted to us, I'm pretty sure I'd still pick to be Edward's friend. Once you get past the cold exterior, it's easy to get along with him.

That first day, we stick with what we know: music.

Edward has a splitter so we can both plug headphones into his iPod at once. We take turns picking songs, and I learn that Edward has the music library I've always wanted. It's eclectic and bizarre in some spaces, and exactly what you'd expect in others.

"Why do you still buy CDs?" I ask, as we're walking to class.

He's tucked his iPod away, but he's still wearing the headphones around his neck. He fiddles with the cord as he answers. "Why not? I'll always be able to transfer them and loan them out to friends."

"What friends?" I tease, nudging him playfully.

He smiles a little, but shrugs. "If I felt like it, I'd buy vinyl. But even I don't want to be that much of a stereotype.'

"Oh, so you think the mp3 is killing music," I say.

"Not killing it. But…it's a thing."

"That doesn't mean anything," I point out, shaking my head.

He grins and looks down. His hair falls in his eyes and he shakes it away. "Nah. It doesn't."

I scoff and pull the door to the biology classroom open. "After you."

He quirks an eyebrow, but walks through the door.

I follow him to our table. "So you think the transition to mp3s is a bad thing," I state, still looking for an answer.

"No, in the same way it's not bad to transition from VHS to DVD. But I'm still going to hold onto my CDs, and keep buying new ones, until I can't."

"Why?" I ask, pressing.

"Because there's more chance for discovery," he says with a shrug. "You hear a song on the radio, and you like it. So you go buy the mp3. But, that way, you're less likely to hear other music by the artist, whereas if you buy the CD, you're guaranteed to listen to all of the other songs. It's a win-win, for you and the artist."

"Huh," I say, nodding slowly. "I see what you mean."

He grins. "That's a first."

"Emmett didn't get it?" I ask.

"Nope," he says. He observes me carefully. "But I guess this just proves what he's been saying all along."

"What's that?"

"You deserve a chance," he says.

Before I can ask anything else, Mr. Banner is starting the lesson, and we have to keep quiet.

But I'm not going to forget.

* * *

**Wednesday, May 27, 2009**

"Hey, Bella," Alice says, hesitantly. She's standing over my shoulder.

I look up from the computer screen. I'm working on a rough design for next year's yearbook cover. "Hey, what's up?" I ask politely. I still don't really care for Alice, but as long as she's being civil, I'm willing to return the favor.

Of the two cheaters, Alice is the one I like more. I never handed her my heart, after all. But it's more than that. She's alone now, since Jasper has graduated, and no one else is willing to really talk to her. So over the past week she's been speaking politely to everyone and really trying to reach out.

To my own surprise, I've been moved by it. She seems to almost regret what she's done, and, when I reflect on the month leading up to graduation, and the times she tried to talk to Edward, I find myself thinking that she just wanted to apologize.

"I, um, I was just wondering," she says, stumbling over her words a little and twisting her fingers slightly. "I was wondering…well."

I wait patiently.

"I guess, really, I just wanted to say sorry for all the names I called you," she says softly.

"Oh," I say, surprised despite myself. "I…uh, apology accepted."

"I just wanted to say that," she says, and walks off.

It feels almost strange that she apologized for the names but not for stealing my boyfriend. But I don't think she's really sorry for that. She probably loves the guy. It's not hard to do. I would know.

Still, it means a lot that she said anything at all. I can't picture Jasper saying anything at all.

Maybe Alice isn't so bad. I'm willing to give her another chance…within reason.

* * *

At lunch, I decide to broaden the topic for discussion. For the past week, we've kept the discussion focused on music, but I think Edward and I are ready for something else.

However, I'm still not willing to be too crazy, so when we sit down, I say, "Okay, let's play a game of 20 questions."

He frowns at me. "What, are we 12?"

"No," I say, firmly shaking my head. "But I feel like I don't know you very well, and I'd like to. So. You can go first."

He sighs. "Uh, okay. Favorite movie?"

"Easy," I say. "Juno. That was hilarious."

"Okay," he says, smiling a little. "I did enjoy that movie. And it introduced me to Kimya Dawson. Always a plus. You're up."

"Favorite color," I say. Starting small is good, right?

But he looks a little disappointed at my apparent lack of creativity. Not like his question was much better. Sheesh.

"Um," he says slowly. "Probably teal."

"That's a good color," I agree. "You wear a lot of teal. Some would suggest that you think you look good in it, and that's why you like it."

"Huh," he says, thoughtfully. "What do you think? Is teal my color? Do I look good in it?"

I'm momentarily stunned. Is Edward…flirting? I look at his face again and narrow my eyes at him. I'm so surprised, I don't think about what I'm saying, and the words slip out of my lips. I can't take them back. "You usually look good."

He grins. "Well thanks, Bella. You usually look good, too."

By now I've turned bright red, so I hide my face in my hands. "Oh, man," I mumble.

Edward laughs and starts eating again.

_Fantastic._

* * *

**Friday, May 29, 2009**

Edward and I have continued our game of 20 Questions, which has somehow morphed into infinite questions. That's okay, though, because we've started texting our questions and answers, so if he makes me blush, he can't tell.

Plus, as far as I can tell, he's more willing to open up if it's via text message.

The question I received today was, "Why did you move to Phoenix?"

This opened a big can of worms, and if I shared it with him, it would take more than a text message, even given that I usually typed in shorthand. Beyond that, it would be more than he might be ready for as my friend. It was pretty personal.

So I hemmed and hawed through my early morning English class. And then again through Government, until finally, in yearbook, I sent him an answering text.

"It's complicated. U sure u want to hear it?"

Only a moment later, I checked my phone to see that Edward had answered. "Yes."

"Mom & dad got a divorce. Mom got custody. I had to go," I text back. I'm not bothering to hide my phone, because Mrs. Murphy could care less about us texting in class. I've already designed two rough covers for the staff to vote on, and I have an idea for one more. I'm half-heartedly working on it.

"But you didn't want to?" Edward's response is quick.

"No. I wanted to stay in Forks, with all my friends," I answer.

"And that's why you came back."

"Yeah."

There's a moment before Edward sends a reply. "Your turn."

The problem is that I managed to answer all of his questions with the least amount of detail possible, so it's like I didn't even open up at all. This frustrates me a little. I want to trust Edward and make him my friend, but I've missed the opportunity. So I send him a question that will reveal something, but not so much that he'll be uncomfortable. "If u could move anywhere, where would u pick?"

I go back to working on the third cover design. This one is maroon and has yellow lettering—the school colors. I think they're awful, but it could be worse. I could be working with a blue and orange palette.

My phone buzzes on my lap. I pick it up.

"Does it have to be in the present?"

I quirk an eyebrow. Interesting. "No."

After a moment, he sends back, "Phoenix, AZ, when my mom was still alive."

My breath catches despite myself. Oh.

He doesn't give me a chance to respond. "Night owl or early bird?"

* * *

After our final class of the day, gym, Edward walks me to my car. We're lazily shooting questions to each other and answering them. Easy questions, like our opinions on books and movies. But when we've reached my truck, he says, "Give me the gritty details of moving to Phoenix."

I hedge. "That's not a question."

He rolls his eyes, but assents. "Okay. What are the gritty details of moving to Phoenix, and then back to Forks?"

I chew my lip and recall, "Didn't you hear most of this when I was talking to Emmett that one day?"

"Only some of it," Edward says, leaning against my truck. Even when he's not standing straight up, he's towering over me. I step to the side a little, so I don't have to tilt my head so far to see him.

"Well," I say, sighing, "If you insist." I chew my lip some more, until Edward points it out. I turn red and shake my head. But I stop chewing my lip.

"It's a big story," I say, and jam my keys into the lock on the door. "Why don't you come over?"

"Okay," Edward says. "I'd love to." Then he frowns. "But no way am I riding in your truck. It might collapse with the weight of two people. I'll meet you there."

I scowl at him. "My truck is fantastic, thank you. She's a strong girl. She could handle you, pansy!"

He laughs. "I won't take my chances."

No one ever claimed that Edward was nice.

* * *

Edward parks on the street outside so Dad will be able to pull in behind me when he gets off work.

I have my backpack slung over my shoulder, and my weight resting on one leg while I wait for him, arms crossed.

He trudges up the drive, and I notice, again, how much taller he is than I realize. It's crazy. Without Emmett around for comparison, it's easier to see how…masculine Edward is. He's actually pretty decently built. Usually, I'm so focused on his face and hair that I don't notice the physical presence he casts…but man. Dude is sexy.

But, seeing how I don't want to be more awkward than necessary around him, I focus on his face again, because by now I've trained myself to be normal when I look at it.

He reaches me, a crooked grin on his face, and I spin on my heel, moving up to the doorstep. "Come on in," I say, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

Inside, we take off our raincoats (the day had been more misty than rainy) and hang them on the coat rack that mom bought at a garage sale when I was eight. She painted it blue with random sunflowers scattered up and down the pole. By the time she and dad split, she hated it, so the coat rack stayed.

I have a bit of time before I need to start making dinner, so I gesture for him to take a seat on the couch. "Want anything to drink?" I ask.

"Nah, I'm okay," he says, sitting down on the couch.

I nod, and retrieve a glass of water for myself. When I enter the living room, I see that he's grabbed a spot on the couch, so I sit at the other end of it. Setting my glass on the table, I take off my sneakers and sit facing him, legs crossed, back leaning against the couch.

"So," Edward says. "Gritty details."

"Did you read that phrase in a mystery novel recently, or something?" I ask, squinting at him.

"Don't worry about it," he says, grinning.

I like seeing him smile, so I don't protest any more, and instead consider how to begin. "I guess what you need to know is that my mom can be very stubborn. She got it into her head that she needed to get out of Forks, and that it was important for her to rescue me from it, too."

"Rescue?" he repeats, doubtfully.

"Well, yeah," I say, shrugging. "I'm pretty sure that's how she thought of it. But Mom and I are very different people. She's very…" I chew my lip. What's the best way to describe her without being disrespectful? "Flighty," I say at last, though that's not quite right.

"Flighty and stubborn?"

"It's a jarring combination," I agree. "Mom never really got out of Forks. She grew up here, married my dad after she graduated, and never travelled, like she wanted to. She has the soul of a…bird. I think she wishes she could migrate with the geese." That's a good description. I guess flighty worked better than I thought. "So to her, Phoenix was her ideal place. It's the opposite of Forks, in almost every way. Sunny, warm, dry, and big. 'A person can get lost there, and it's something beautiful,'" I explain. "That's what she used to say."

"But it wasn't that way for you?" Edward says.

"Correct. I hated it. Well, I hated that it wasn't home. I'm sure I could have liked it if I had wanted to."

"Stubborn. You're not so different from your Mom, in that regard," Edward points out.

I allow myself to laugh at that. "Yeah, that's true." Shaking my head, I continue. "I told my mom repeatedly that I wanted to stay with Dad. And obviously, Dad would have been okay with me living with him. But Mom had to rescue me, so she dragged me along. I didn't speak to her for, like, a month.

"But I got over myself, and let her back in. I think that was the closest we've ever been in my life. I've lost that connection with her, a little bit, and it's kind of sad," I muse. "Still, I wouldn't want to leave Forks to rekindle it. I love it here."

"I'm surprised at how nice it is," Edward agrees. "It wasn't what I expected at all. But how did you manage to get back here?"

"Oh," I say. "Well, it wasn't terribly difficult. I basically convinced Mom to let me move back for the last year and a half of high school by reminding her that she didn't get to travel with her husband very often because she had to stay home with me, and it would just be easier for everyone, since Phil was going to get signed soon enough."

"He's an athlete?" Edward asks. His face is closing and his eyes are darkening, and once again, I wonder if we had some sort of connection in Phoenix that I just don't remember.

"Yeah, he's a minor league baseball player. He just got signed to some team in Florida. I forget who."

"Huh," Edward says. "Can I get a drink of water?"

"Yeah, sure," I say, getting up to deal with it. I can't help but feel that he isn't all that thirsty. I think he just needs a moment alone—for some reason, Phil isn't a safe subject with Edward.

Sure enough, when I return, Edward is more relaxed. He's not quite smiling again, but he doesn't look half as upset as he did before.

"Here you go," I say, handing him the glass of water.

He takes a drink, but sets it down on the coffee table. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

"About Phoenix?" I consider it. Have I opened up yet? "It was a nightmare." I tell him about it then: the way I closed in on myself and hid away from not only my mom, but also my classmates and the girls at the church I went to. I add bits about Emmett and how I didn't talk to him much.

"I got hold of a couple books and I read them so many times I practically have them memorized. English this year has been a piece of cake," I tell him.

"So no one but your mom and your books," he says, thoughtful.

"Yeah," I agree." And music."

"Weird," he says.

"What?" I ask, slightly perturbed. It's not everyday I tell this story, and to have him so glibly react to it is definitely not okay.

"It's just that you're a friendly person," Edward says, shrugging. "I would think you'd have a lot of friends in Phoenix."

I shake my head, though I do feel a bit of warmth on my cheeks. "Thanks, but you're wrong. All the friends I have here are people who were my friends before I left for Phoenix. You're the only one I've branched out to."

"Yeah?" he asks. "I guess that's true. So why me? Just because I'm Emmett's brother?"

I blush harder. "At first," I lie. The only reason I wanted to be his friend is because I had a massive crush on him—and still do. "But it's become more than that. You have a really great personality," I tell him. That's the truth.

"I did nothing but glare at you for the first month you were here," he points out.

I shake my head. "Yeah, but…that's not the real you."

"No?" He seems amused. "How do you know?"

"You're just prickly," I say, shrugging. "But a good guy underneath that. And it's nice to have someone to talk to who really knows music. I don't get that with Emmett and Rose, as much as I love them. You're a cool dude, Edward."

"Well, thanks," Edward says. He's surprised, but he shouldn't be. I barely even complimented him.

"Really," I say, smiling. "I like hanging out with you."

"I like hanging out with you, too," he says. "I'm glad you didn't graduate with Rose and Emmett."

I giggle, because it's a statement that makes sense at the same time it doesn't. "I'm glad I get to hang out with you all next year, too."

He smiles at me, and it's a real smile that makes my breath catch in my throat.

"Have you ever considered modeling?" I blurt.

He blinks, and grins a little. "Uh, no. Not my scene. But thanks. Again." His phone beeps, saving me from any further embarrassment, as he reads the text message. "Gotta go. Thanks for the water, and the story. See you around?" he smiles lightly.

"There's one more day of school," I remind him.

He stands, stretching his arms above his head. It's like he's being really cute on purpose.

I pinch my leg to keep from saying anything.

"I'm not going," he says as he puts on his raincoat. "Esme is letting me skip. Since we aren't doing anything, right?"

"You are going to leave me _alone_?" I gasp, faking shock.

He shrugs, looking extremely unapologetic. "Sorry. Not going."  
"Well, _thanks_."

"I'll see you around, Bella. Have a good day," he says, waving shortly. He opens the door and steps outside.

"Later," I say. I allow myself to watch him walking down the driveway to his car. I still have a couple of minutes before I really need to get started on dinner. So I can watch him for a minute.

He waves as he drives off, and I half-heartedly wave back.

I feel kind of warm inside, because I _think_ that he flirted with me today. At least a little. He definitely complimented me.

I smile to myself and close the door, heading into the kitchen to start dinner.

* * *

**Monday, May 31, 2009**

The last day is just as boring as I expected it to be, though I do get to talk to Angela a bit in Yearbook, which is a pleasant surprise. She's been working just as hard as me these past couple weeks, thinking up story ideas with the writing staff and coming up with ideas for section copy.

So it's a pleasant surprise for her to be able to take a seat next to me and look at the designs I've made up for the cover.

"I like this one," she says, pointing to the first one I've made. "But Mrs. Murphy really thinks we ought to do a maroon book. Can you make an alternate of this design where the background is maroon instead of black? That way we can present both ideas to the staff."

"Sure, no problem," I say. I'll just recolor the back and save it differently. Easy. "How's everything going?"

"Slowly," Angela says. "No one can agree on anything. I'm really glad you're the only one designing, or this would be five times slower, too."

"We'll get there," I say, smiling.

"Yeah, I hope," she says. "Keep up the great work, Bella. And let's hang out this summer, in a non-yearbook related event."

"Sounds fun."

She walks off while I'm changing the color to maroon. It's literally the most fun I've had all day.

"Hey, Bella," Alice says. She sits down in the seat recently occupied by her sister.

"Hi, Alice," I reply. I don't look away from what I'm doing. I need the maroon to be the right shade, and I think I'd like to put it on a slight gradient.

Alice doesn't say anything else, though, she just opens up the Internet and uses a circumventor to log onto Facebook.

I guess she realized it was better to approach me than be alone. I kind of wish I was that brave, when I was in Phoenix. Grudgingly, I admit that I admire her audacity. Maybe envy is better word for it.

But class can't last forever, and we both rush out when the bell rings without parting words. Can't say I'm upset about that. Whatever Alice is trying to do, be it getting back into my good graces or in the good graces of everyone, it hasn't worked yet. But the fact that she's got the brains to figure out this is a necessary move makes me want to give her a chance.

So. We'll see.

After all, there's nothing else she can take from me.

* * *

A/N: Okay. So this update was supposed to happen like a month ago...and I'm sorry. It was also supposed to cover more than this. But this is what came out whenever I had the chance to write. Still, I can 100% guarantee that next time will cover the entire summer.

Do you want an excuse as to why I didn't update? Well first I was out of town, then I was house-sitting, then I was moving, then I started school (15 hours this semester, and they're all upperclassmen classes so don't hate bro) and I am working for really the first time ever. I have also written 3 papers and there's only been about three weeks of classes so far. So please. Cut me some slack...

Review, if you don't mind. I'd super appreciate it. It would make this all seem worthwhile. Also, if you want a way to more effectively bother me, follow me on twitter and send me messages about it. My username is steensteen. You want to. I'm hilarious.

Bye.


	20. The Only Thing Missing

**Chapter 19: The Only Thing Missing on this Angsty Road Trip is a Wendigo  
**

**Friday, June 12, 2009**

* * *

I spend the first two weeks of June pretending I'm not leaving for a month. I don't pack, and spend every possible second with Rose, Emmett, and Edward.

I try to make time for Dad, too, because I'll miss him a lot, too. As much as I love my mom, Dad has always been my favorite parent. He's the one who acted even vaguely parental. Mom has always been a little too free, a little too childlike. She could hardly keep herself in check, let alone a kid. Luckily for her, I hadn't wanted to stick out beyond stellar grades and avid church attendance. I was the epitome of a good kid...if you didn't count the whole silent treatment and quiet hatred for that short month.

But Dad was pretty good at laying down the law when I was younger. He was already a police officer and he wanted his home more organized than the town itself. Dad was the one who made sure we kept a schedule, a clean house, and that there was, above all, no yelling. He liked the quiet. That was all right with me, because I did, too.

This is just one of the reasons that Mom and Dad weren't meant to be together. Dad is all about order. Mom is about chaos. Opposites might attract, but oftentimes, they don't do a good job sticking together.

So for a lot of reasons, Dad is the parent I trust. I'm always guaranteed to be taken care of while he's around, even if I'm the one cooking. Mom...not so much.

Every night, after having spent the day at the Cullen home, I curl up next to my dad on the couch. Usually, he would sit in the chair, but ever since I started joining him in watching whatever stupid game is on TV, he's sat on the couch.

Sometimes, I rest my head on his shoulder, but the fact remains that we're not touchy-feely, so that is still pretty rare.

But naturally, we don't talk about our feelings. That's something mom likes to do, not Dad. I'm not going to talk about not wanting to go, and he's not going to tell me that he wishes I could stay.

We hide our feelings in baseball.

* * *

Not so, with Emmett and Rose, however.

My days go like this: I get up around nine or ten, shower and dress myself, and then drive over to Rose's house. She runs down the driveway and gets in the car before I can even undo my seatbelt, and then we're off again, headed to Emmett and Edward. Most of the time, we hang out in the game room or in the backyard, especially on days when the sun is out.

On rainy days, we play Guitar Hero or Dance Dance Revolution-games we can all play together. Sometimes, Emmett tries to teach us Halo. Rose is a bit better at it than me, but that's mostly because I'm hopeless. Edward leaves the room completely when we play Halo, and Emmett always throws things at him when he does that. He has decent aim, so Edward usually walks out of the room with something like a sock draped over his shoulder.

When the sun comes out, we sunbathe. I have a dark blue swimsuit that I wear under a pair of cutoffs and a tank top for those days, and Rose wears a summer dress over her red suit. I'm not really sure how someone so pale and blonde pulls off a red tankini, but she does.

At the Cullen house, we take the outer clothing off and stretch out in the always moist grass. It's like swimming without a pool.

On the second day the sun comes out, Emmett tackles me before I have my shorts off and suddenly I'm flat on the grass trying to fend off his tickling fingers. I'm laughing really hard, not because I'm really ticklish-okay, maybe a bit-but because it was so unexpected and Emmett-like that it was impossible not to.

I keep pinching any part of him I can reach and pushing feebly at his stomach until Rose pushes him off of me and yanks me up. "Together," she says, pointing at Emmett, and we both tackle him.

Edward crosses his arms, frowning a little while I perch neatly on Emmett's stomach and Rose flattens out on his chest.

"Don't you have fun, Edward?" I ask him, poking Emmett's leg.

"No," Emmett chokes out. He tries to push me off of him, but Rose is on top of his arms, making things difficult for him.

"Ha," Edward says. He sends me a cursory glance before studiously looking away. "That's very funny, Emmett."

I hop off of Emmett and he takes the opportunity to roll Rose off of him. I hear them kissing behind me which is still nothing I'm interested in watching. Instead, I pout, approaching Edward cautiously. "Why so serious, Edward? Live a little."

He rolls his eyes. "You all are like children."

"It's true," I agree. And since he's still looking anywhere but at me, I take this opportunity to shove him as hard as I can and tackle him.

He hits the ground with a soft "oomph" and I pin his arms and legs.

Of course he's stronger than me and could easily throw me off, but he doesn't, instead staring up at me in surprise.

I'm almost surprised at my own audacity, except that I tackled Emmett the same way only moments ago. He can read into this however he wants.

We hold still, me grinning in triumph, him almost gaping at me. His eyes flicker to my mouth, and I feel myself start to blush.

It's like we're frozen, though, because he's not going to make the first move no matter how much he wants to, and I'm not bold enough to do it for him.

I've been holding myself about six inches above him, my toes flexed on his ankles and my hands on his wrists, but the plank position is starting to drain me. I've never had strong abs. But there's no way I'm going to move of my own volition, so I say, "Edward, this is the part where you try to get free. That's how wrestling works."

There it is—the crooked grin. "Okay," he says, and pulls his hands free to grab my waist and lift me off of him and put me on the ground before getting up and sprinting away.

I laugh and chase him, even though I can't possibly catch him. He has long legs and is a surprisingly fast runner.

When we finally get tired of running around we come back to Emmett and Rose, who seem completely unaware of anything happening between us, and sprawl in the grass next to them. I shrug my shorts off and lay flat in my swimsuit. I can't tan but I can appreciate the sun on as much of my body as possible.

Edward is laying on the grass next to me. His hand is next to mine and after we've all been talking quietly and laughing for several minutes, his pinky touches my palm.

I smile.

* * *

**Monday, June 15, 2009**

* * *

I don't know what to expect when Mom arrives to pick me up. The last time Mom and I went on a road trip, it was much shorter and I was giving her the silent treatment. But I put on a brave face, kiss Dad on the cheek, and drag my suitcase down the walkway. At least it's sunny in Florida.  
"Hi, Mom," I say, and hug her tentatively. It would be a lie to say that I'm not still a little peeved at my mom, the woman who never really mothered me until it was too late.

Mom hugs me tightly and nearly lifts me off the ground. She must be working out again. "Bella, it's so great to see you."

Already I'm softening to her. I try to bring back the angry girl who didn't speak to her for a month, but it's not working out for me. Apparently 14 year old me had more guts. Still, I stand stiffly. I'll do what I can.

"What's the plan?" Dad asks as I walk around the car to the trunk. Mom's driving a Honda Civic now, which doesn't really surprise me. It's a sensible car—Phil picked it out.

"Oh, we're not really having a strict plan," Mom answers breezily. "I know we're passing through St. Louis, but to be honest, I'd rather take things as they come."

I'm suddenly very glad I mapped out a route one day when I was at the Cullens' home.

"Sounds…fun," Dad says, frowning.

I smile at him and wink. I hold up the stack of papers that have directions.

He looks very relieved.

"Good," he says. "Well, have fun."

Mom smiles and walks around to the driver's side.

I'm still clutching the papers and a pillow, but I slam the trunk and rush forward to wrap my arms tightly around my Dad's waist. "Bye, Dad," I whisper.

"Bye, Bella."

I get in the car then, and as we leave, I stare over my shoulder at the fleeting remnants of stability.

* * *

Surprisingly, Mom doesn't talk much beyond the beginning formalities of "How are you doing?" and "How was school?" She branches out with "What have you been doing this summer?"

I try to answer with the smallest possible answers, but not so small that she'll pick up on it. So "I've been okay" and "It got better" are my standard responses.

We arrive in Port Angeles before she tries to get me to open up.

"So, Bella," she begins, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

I turn away from the window, which I've been staring out of for the last 45 minutes. "Hmm?"

"We haven't really talked in a while," she hedges. Most of her attention is on the road, but she glances at me now and then.

"No," I agree.

"Well, maybe we should," she suggests, biting her lip—I picked that habit up from her, along with the not-very-full lips and the straight teeth. Hers are still a little yellowed from the three years she spent smoking.

"Okay," I say, shrugging. I'm not going to make it easy for her.

"I guess what I'm curious about," Mom starts, picking her words carefully. "Is why your Dad seems to be your favorite parent."

I flinch, because that's not true. It can't be true. He's the easier one to live with, but my mom was my best friend for years. Dad would never ask a question like this—he'd let the answer fester inside of me until I called Emmett, Rosalie, or even Mom. "How could you even think that?" I demand.

"I don't know, Bella, maybe it was how strongly you protested moving in with me this year."

"Mom, you know how I feel about Forks. It wasn't you." It was a little bit, but telling my mom she's a bad parent isn't going to convince her that I love her.

"No, Bella, I can't believe that. Forks is nothing special."

"The people there _are_," I say, because surely she knows what it's like to have friends.

"I never had any friends that made me want to leave half of my family behind," Mom answered, still irritated.

"No," I snap. "You did that all by yourself."

We're quiet for a long time, each of us silently seething. One of the things I can't stand about my mother is how she makes everything about herself. I don't get why everything I do has to be an affront to her, but there it is. She's blaming Dad for being a good parent, even if she doesn't realize it, and she's blaming me for wanting to live near my friends.

* * *

She doesn't talk to me until we reach Tacoma. Even then, all she says is "We're going to Point Defiance Park."

We've only been traveling for three hours, but ever since the fight in Port Angeles, this trip has seemed to last an eternity. Signal has been spotty, so I haven't even been able to text Rose or Emmett.

"Okay," I mumble in response, and we don't talk again until she's parked the car at the park.

"We're going to hike for an hour or two."

Ah, I think. Mom is on another nature kick. Normally, this might bring a bit of warmth to my heart, but right now it's just another irritating quirk. "Which trail are we taking?" I grumble. I'm not really dressed for a hike, but at least I'm wearing sneakers and shorts. "Do you have bug spray?"

"Oh, you know, I read something somewhere that said it was healthy to get a couple bug bites now and then," Mom replies breezily. She's digging through a cooler and sticking water bottles into a backpack, as well as trail mix.

I groan lightly. There is no way that's true.

Mom finishes with the cooler and locks the car up. She slings the backpack over her shoulders, and smiles at me tightly. "Let's go. It's a two hour trail, but I think we can finish in an hour and a half."

Sighing, I follow her, scratching my left shoulder absently. I've probably already got a mosquito bite.

"We're taking the Square Trail," Mom says, a fresh spring in her step.

I grunt in response, hurrying to keep up with her. It's not like I've gotten unhealthy by living with Dad—I'm still eating the same things. The only difference is that Mom used to drag me along to her monthly obsessions. I did a lot of yoga, Pilates, and even Zumba when I was living with her. The most I did at Dad's house was P.E.

It only takes a few minutes for me to be breathing hard which Mom must not notice, because she keeps pushing speed out of me.

We go for 15 minutes before she finally stops to give me a water break.

I gulp it down and use my tank top to wipe away the thin sheen of sweat.

"Oh, Bella," Mom says, shaking her head. "If you're sweating now, you'll have a terrible time in Jacksonville."

I groan.

* * *

Forty-five minutes into the hike, I'm sending grateful prayers to heaven that the trail is mostly shady. I'd have a terrible sunburn if it weren't for that.

Plus I'd be a lot hotter.

Mom has started to sweat at this point, though, and that's a little comforting, because I'm nearly drenched in sweat by now.

"Halfway," Mom says happily. "I told you we could finish in an hour and a half."

"How long is this trail?" I pant.

"Four miles," Mom says pleasantly.

I groan. "We've only gone two?"

"I know. We aren't making very good time, are we?"

I consider crying.

* * *

Mom is so easily distractible. By the time we finish the hike, I suspect the argument we had in Port Angeles has completely left her mind.

I'm not distracted, though.

"We're going to have lunch now," she says, oblivious to my irritation. That's not really surprising, though, since the black cloud of my anger could easily be mistaken for sweat and exhaustion.

So we sit at a picnic table and chow down on the sandwiches she must have made some time before getting me. "Do you want to drive for a while?" she asks.

I shrug.

Mom sighs. "Bella—"

"What?"

"I just don't understand what I've done to upset you."

I finish my sandwich. "I guess that's the problem." It isn't, but I don't want to have this conversation. I pick up her keys and say, "I'll be in the car." I storm away from the table, scowling. I sit in the driver's seat when I get to the car, because I do want to drive.

I have no clue where Mom wanted me to drive us, but I glance at my maps while she sits at the picnic table on the phone, presumably with Phil. Luckily, I had also picked Tacoma as a stopping point (was there another way? I had not a clue). Next on my list was Ellensburg, which was just two and a half hours away. If we stop there, we'll only have traveled about six hours today, but at the moment I'm not up for stomaching any more time with Mom.

Finally, Mom gets back into the car.

We drive away in silence.

In fact, neither of us says anything until we're getting on Interstate 5, and Mom takes her shirt off.

"Mom," I choke out. "What are you doing?"

"It's hot," she mumbles, and she cracks the window before leaning her seat back and falling asleep.

I chew my lip. I'd forgotten the stranger things my mother got up to. She was confident about her body. Or maybe unaware of it was a better way to say it.

"It's just me," she said once, when I'd come home from school to see her stretched out in the front yard, tanning in a bikini. "Why be ashamed? It's just an extension of me."

Still. It's disconcerting to see your mother topless.

Frowning, I keep driving. I shouldn't expect any more from her, because this is exactly the kind of stuff that made me feel like the mother in our relationship in the first place. I wish, I really do, that I had a mom instead of a friend. She made me grow up too fast.

And okay, yeah, I'm still really childish a lot of the time. I know I'm being childish by being angry with my mother at all, but I'm too childish to do anything about that, too. I want to be mad at her. I want her to apologize.

I look at my sleeping mother in her lavender-colored bra, and sigh. An apology won't be here for a while.

* * *

I arrive in Ellensburg, where we have decent signal. My phone blows up with text messages and missed calls.

I sigh.

Mom wakes up when I pull over at a restaurant. We left the park at one, and since I'm my father's daughter, it ended up taking the full two and a half hours to get there. No speeding in this car.

Anyway, it's 3:30 p.m. now, and I am starving. "Is steak okay with you?" I ask. Okay, so maybe Dad's eating habits rubbed off on me—I picked to eat at Road House Grill. But it looks delicious, and red meat sounds great after that exhausting hike.

Mom looks vaguely disturbed at my choice, but doesn't protest. My guess is she's a recovering vegan—probably quit last month. It would explain why she seems even thinner than last time I saw her.

Mom's dietary habits used to worry me a lot, not because I think vegans and vegetarians are inherently unhealthy, but because she never did it right. She'd just subtract the stuff she wasn't supposed to eat from her diet without worrying about replacing the necessary vitamins and nutrients in other ways. She would get painfully thin, all the time.

I don't think she's doing that right now, probably because Phil finally noticed and ordered her to stop it. Her skin has a pretty healthy glow, so maybe she's at least getting everything she needs, even if she's not eating meat right now.

Abruptly, I realize how much I'm worrying about her and order myself to stop.

* * *

**Tuesday, June 16, 2009**

* * *

"Should we talk about it?"

"No," I practically snarl. Well, not really, because Mom has stopped us at Riverside Park, in Spokane, for another hiking trip, and I can't snarl while I'm panting. By the end of this road trip, I will hate the outdoors. It's official.

We stayed in Ellensburg last night and left this morning after a light breakfast and a trip to the local farmer's market. We left Ellensburg at about nine in the morning, and arrived at the park about noon. It's the hottest time of the day, and she wants to go hiking.

I haven't complained much, though, and I'm proud of that. But I'm not going to talk about being mad at her while I can barely breathe.

This hike is half as long as yesterday's, according to Mom, but the trail is also pretty hilly.

Still, we finish 30 minutes earlier than the guide indicated we would, which Mom, naturally, is thrilled about. "I should have told you to buy hiking boots," she sighs when she sees me peel my sneakers off in the car. "Oh well."

And that is Mom—20/20 hindsight, but completely unflappable.

Well, not completely, seeing how she's obviously bothered about me not moving in with her. Unreasonable.

It's 1:40 p.m. when we leave the park, and with her driving, we make it to Spokane much faster than we should have. How she manages to avoid cops is a mystery to me.

We stop at McDonald's before heading back out on the road. "We're going to make it to Billing's tonight," Mom says cheerfully.

"That's eight hours from here," I say, frowning.

"Seven and a half at the most," Mom says, rolling her eyes.

I cringe. "You better drive for most of it." And then I roll over in the seat and pretend to take a nap.

Phil calls while I'm still pretending to sleep. "Hello?" Mom mumbles.

I can only hear half of the conversation, and to be honest I'm not really interested in it. Mom complains a little about me being unreasonable, which makes me tense up, but other than that, she just updates him on the trip.

When she hangs up, I wait five more minutes before checking my phone.

Last night, I was mad at mom so I watched TV while she went to the farmer's market, and ended up falling asleep. That might have been a mistake, since she brought me home some weird drink instead of actual dinner. Granted, I was full after drinking it, but I would have preferred to chew my veggies. Juicing, obviously, was not my thing.

Anyway, I never bothered to check my phone, I'd just charged it. But now, as we crossed into Montana, I read the 50 text messages from Rose, Emmett, Esme, and even Edward. There was a text from Dad, too, and I answered him first.

From: Dad  
Everything going well?

To: Dad  
Could be better. But we're okay.

That's a lie, but I'm not going to worry Dad.

I read Emmett's next, because he is my best friend.

From: Emmett  
How's it going?  
Is your mom driving you nuts?  
Did she ask you about boys yet (you can always tell her you're dating me)  
Did you know lions mate up to 25 times a day?  
Hey who's the Turk and who's the JD in our relationship?  
Where are you?  
I want to be Turk.  
Are you still in Washington?  
I'm definitely Turk, the more I think about it.  
Belly talk to me  
Talk  
To  
Me  
PLEASE?  
Is it because I called you belly cuz I'm sorry  
Bellllaaaaa  
bella  
b  
e  
l  
l  
a

I grimace. Wow. Real cute, Emmett. Then again, I did ignore his texts for two days.

To: Emmett  
It's going awful, Emmett. Sorry I haven't been answering these. Signal has been on and off and I've been sleeping to avoid my mom. And I don't know who Turk and JD are.

Rose is next on my list of important people, so I pull hers up.

From: Rose  
Wassup?  
sorry I didn't text earlier, was sleepin  
its weird w/o u here  
Edward asked about u. it was weird that I couldn't tell him anything cuz u haven't been answering  
emmett's getting mad  
he keeps making me watch scrubs bella. Make it stop. Text him  
he misses his epic bromance, obvs  
its sunny today  
where are u  
Do I need to type with proper grammar and spelling to receive a reply?  
BELLA  
I'm leaving Emmett right now because if I have to suffer through one more episode of scrubs I will cry  
this is what u did  
what is ur mom saying?  
has she clued in on ur giant crush on Edward yet  
I bet not  
did u make it to Montana yet  
im bored w/o u  
Emmett is googling stupid facts to share with everyone. Apparently the one about lion sex wasn't enough  
bella how did you deal with him for all of these years  
bella  
okay fine I'll text u l8r

After reading that, I feel my face heating up. Her mentions of Edward still embarrass me. I get the feeling she's doing it on purpose. Still, Emmett's antics make me grin, and that Edward asked about me at all was really…nice. And made me feel hopeful.

I texted her back quickly.

To: Rose  
Jeez, sorry! I haven't had signal very consistently. And I've been kind of mad. Not at you! At mom. Anyway, I'm sorry about Emmett, and seriously shut UP about Edward. I will murder you.

And finally, I suck in a breath and read Edward's text message.

From: Edward  
Rose and Emmett are having aneurisms. Are you okay?

And, jeez, that should not cause this sort of reaction, but I feel my face redden even further, and I'm pretty sure my tank top is showing off some red collarbones. My ears are definitely red. Curse my pale complexion. But he asked if I was okay, and he doesn't really even know the whole situation. I want to clutch the phone to my chest.

"Who texted you to make you look like that?" Mom asks.

I jump. For a second I forgot she was in the car with me. "No one," I blurt, because whatever I feel about Edward is so stupid and dorky and embarrassing and it's not even a thing and I really, really don't want to tell her about it.

"A boy," she says succinctly, and she's grinning.

I don't want her to grin, because I'm still mad at her, so I shake my head. "No."

"A girl?" she asks, interested.

I gape at her. "No."

"It's okay if you are—"

"Jeez, I'm not!" And it would be okay if I were. But based on how horny I get around Edward it really doesn't seem like a possibility.

"So what is this person? Neither?"

"It's a boy," I answer her, unwillingly. "But it's nothing."

"Which is why you look like a cherry popsicle."

"Shut. Up."

She does, and I'm grateful we have more of a friendship than a mother-daughter relationship.

To: Edward  
It could be better, but it's not the worst just yet.

After I send it, I lose signal, but Rose and Emmett each texted me while I'd been talking to mom, so I go ahead and read them.

From: Emmett  
When you get back we're watching Scrubs. Maybe you should talk it out with your mom.

I scowl because I most definitely do _not_ want to talk it out with my mom, even if it's the best idea. I read Rose's text instead.

From: Rose  
sum bff u r :P neway im glad ur ok. Talk to ur mom!

Why is that everyone's answer? I pout.

* * *

I really do fall asleep at some point, I guess, because the next time I wake up, we're in Montana. "Where are we?" I ask.

"About an hour from Billings. We're gonna stop at some Italian place for dinner, all right?"

I'm completely okay with that because Italian food is always good. Mom knows how I feel about it, and I think that means she's going to try to pull everything out of me—if she could make lasagna, she totally would.

I don't let her know I'm onto her game, though, I just say, "Sweet." And then, "Do you want me to take a turn driving?"

She shakes her head. "Naw, I'm starving. If you drive we'll be there in an hour and a half."

I make a face at her, and she laughs. I smile to myself, unable to help it. No matter how angry she makes me, she's still my…whatever. Mom's not the right word, but she's something like that, almost. I love her, is the point. Her laughter has never been a bad thing.

I check my phone to see if I have a signal yet, and grin in victory when I see I've got a bar. I respond to Emmett's text first, though I notice that Dad and Edward have both texted me back.

To: Emmett  
I'll do it. Eventually. What's Scrubs?

And then:

To: Rose  
I'm a great best friend! You're the one being rude. And I will okay?

It's almost disturbing how similar their brains run, now that I think about it. Sure, Rosalie texts like a freshman, but the pathos behind their messages match up, which makes my face screw up in half a grin and half a scowl. Because, jeez, they're _adorable_, but even when I was convinced Jasper was my _Soul Mate_, we never had this…sameness.

Chewing my lip I open Dad's text next.

From: Dad  
Okay. Love you.

Another good thing about Dad—when he says "I love you" it means a lot. And he gets straight to the point.

I send back my reply—"love you too", and open the message from Edward.

From: Edward  
Well that's good, I guess? Where are you?

To: Edward  
Mom says about an hour outside of Billings. In Montana. And yeah, it's...what it is.

That text didn't make me blush near as much, which I would be glad about, except that it's dark outside and Mom probably wouldn't even have noticed. What I wouldn't give to have had this reaction earlier.

I sigh and prop my feet up on the dashboard. I need to talk to mom but I don't want to. At all.

* * *

We eat at the local Olive Garden. Mom is still going light on the meat (which leads me to believe she was indeed a vegan last month) so she orders fettuccine alfredo, which is a meal _meant_ to go with chicken, but I decide not to comment, and order some kind of ravioli. Mushroom, I think. I wasn't really paying attention; I was distracted by the weird fruity drink mom insisted I order.

"It's called 'Bella Limonata'. You have to drink it."

So I am, and yeah, it is _amazing_, but I'm pretty sure it has more sugar in it than I was expecting. That, or Mom snuck some in when I wasn't looking. I feel jittery but keep drinking.

Our server, Lionel, brings me a refill. I think he might have been trying to flirt with me by smiling sensually when he handed me my drink, but to be honest, I might have imagined it. In any case, I didn't respond. Too jittery. I haven't eaten in 7 hours, or whatever, and the drink is really sweet.

I start tapping my foot, and when Lionel brings back our food, I give him a beatific smile. Or maybe just crazed. Who knew?

Maybe not crazed. He still looks interested—definitely interested.

I chew my lip as he places the plate in front of me. "Thanks."

"No problem," he answers, and grins at me easily.

That's interesting.

But I blow it off because I'm transient and hyper and…huh. What's that? …Weird.

Lionel leaves. I dig into the meal in front of me, because yeah, I'm starving, and the breadsticks and salad did little. Seven hours is a long time.

Mom and I don't talk unless Lionel drops by to check on us. He must be annoying Mom, though, because she gets more and more snappy, which strikes me as odd, because she's always encouraged me to flirt and meet guys.

I brush it off and ask for the check and to go boxes. She's driving me crazy with her…whatever.

Lionel writes his number on the back of the receipt. When we leave, I toss it in the trash, though not where he can see it. It's very nice of him, but he's a whole state away from me, so no thanks.

We stay at Motel 6, and as soon as the door closes, Mom starts needling me.

"Bella, we have got to talk."

I'm still sugar rushing, but I make an effort to stop twitching and move across the room to set the food on the table. There's no fridge, which doesn't surprise me, but I figure if I put the food close enough to the A/C we'll be okay. Ehhh….Mom won't care, in any case.

"Bella, listen to me. We need to talk about this."

"What is this?" I ask vaguely. That thing I felt back at Olive Garden is curling up in my stomach again, and it is _not_ comfortable.

"Me and you, Bella," Mom says, frowning.

"What is there to talk about?" I ask, still not looking at Mom.

"Bella, you _know_ what. Come on."

I shake my head and flop onto one of beds.

"Bella, I swear."

"Gah, can you just shut up?" I snap.

"Oh, no, young lady, _do not_ say that to me."

"Or what?" I demand, pushing myself upward. I'm shaking, and only half of it is because of the sugar. "You want to talk about us? What about the way you act like I'm the kid, half the time, which doesn't even make any sense because I'm seventeen, okay? I'm gonna be an adult in like two months, but whatever it doesn't matter because I've been an adult since I was like 14. Or you've been, like, treating me that way. It's all…you don't pay attention to me until you need something and…like, don't take _that tone_ with me, okay, Mom? Because you forfeited that right a long time ago."

Mom is tense, staring at me, her mouth a harsh flat line. "Uh-uh, no way, Bella. Do _not_ act like this. I've been the best mother I possibly could have been—"

"Mom, that is such bull crap; are you even listening to yourself?" I rub a hand over my face. "Like, I can't even begin to address that in a logical way. You don't treat me like a daughter, and I've been okay with that, like it's great that you're my friend, but…freaking…don't. Don't act like you've mothered me, except when I'm not doing things exactly how you want them."

"Bella—"

"And," I cut her off, "And leaving Dad was just…I still…I don't hate Phil or anything, okay? But Dad is…he's my dad, and I really need you to understand that he makes me feel safe and I really love Forks, and you know, I still hate that you guys got divorced, because at least when you were together, your mood swings didn't give me whiplash. It's like one minute we're best friends and then you act like I can't even flirt with a boy I'm never going to see again and like you need me to be around and stuff—"

Mom is shaking her head. "It's not like that, Bella," she says, and flicks a tear away. "I admit I was being a little strange at the restaurant, but, please, you have to understand—"

"Understand _what_, Mom?" I get off the bed and turn my back to her. "Because I've never been so fu—so freaking pissed in my life. Not even about moving to Phoenix."

"Bella, please…"

"No, actually," I say, spinning around. "I think I'm still pretty pissed about the move to Phoenix. I think, I think…I'm still pissed about the divorce, about the fact that I couldn't even bring myself to make friends in Phoenix, that you treat me like a 30 year old one minute and a 12 year old the next. I don't feel _normal_, Mom, and I don't know how to _fix it_."

Mom just keeps crying. "Bella, I'm…I'm sorry."

There's a knock on the door, and I stomp across the room and fling it open. "What?" I practically snarl.

A woman stands on the other side, looking vaguely affronted. "Could you keep it down? It's getting late."

I slam the door in her face, storm back to the bed, and scream into a pillow.

Mom leaves to take a shower.

I stay still and try to figure out where all this anger came from, because it doesn't make sense. I was fine. I was so okay. I've been okay about this stuff since…at least since Mom and I reconnected in Phoenix. Right?

I try to think. The only thing I can figure is that I just shoved the anger away, and it's always been there. "Dammit!" I yell into the pillow.

All this anger probably kept me from making friends, and led to my breakup with Jasper, definitely, and maybe that's how I ended up on Edward's bad side, definitely. They can all tell I'm pissed, and I didn't even know I was so, so furious. Why do I even have friends, or anything? I'm too messed up, not good enough—

And suddenly I'm sobbing brokenly into the pillow, because I guess I'd repressed everything—my anger, my hurt about Jasper cheating on me, the confusion with Edward being…weird, and even Alice being nice to me again. How…How did this happen? And what do I even do about it?

Mom curls up behind me, her hair still wet, and pulls my back into her chest.

We cry ourselves to sleep on top of the covers.

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Twilight, Scrubs, or Olive Garden (nor anything else I mentioned.)

**A/N**: Surprise! I updated. This is a big deal! Aaaand I have the next chapter ready, too. The end is in sight, guys! I have all the chapters planned out, it's just a matter of motivation at this point.

To keep up with what I'm writing, check out my new writing log on tumblr—neverendingpaintrain (it's relevant; trust me) and follow my personal blog—imagreatbowler. If you bother me on there I'm much more likely to write this stuff.


	21. You Have Reached Your Destination

**Chapter 20 – You Have Reached Your Destination**

* * *

**Wednesday, June 17, 2009**

* * *

We don't do anything in Billings, even though I think I overheard Mom tell Phil we were going to some state park. We just stop at a McDonald's for breakfast, and drive.

"How far are we going today?" I ask. It's the first time either of us has spoken, except when ordering breakfast.

Mom starts. The car has been silent for a solid two hours, so I can't blame her. "Uh, Sioux Falls."

"Isn't that like, ten hours from Billings?" I ask, frowning.

"Nine, unless I let you take a turn driving." She pauses, fidgeting a little. "I would appreciate that pretty soon, actually."

"Next gas station," I offer. "Or bathroom break, whatever." I fiddle with my phone for a while. Signal has still been on and off, but I have about 15 text messages from Dad and my friends that I've been ignoring, which, yeah, is stupid, because I already feel like I don't really deserve their friendship. I should probably pay attention to them.

Later.

"And we're stopping at Mount Rushmore."

"Oh," I say. "Good."

"What else is there to do in South Dakota?" Mom asks, and I can tell it's a mix between a joke and a peace offering, but somehow, this won't be enough. I don't know how to make it enough.

But I'll try, just smiling weakly at her. "Yeah."

* * *

"This is kind of a let down," I say, leaning over the railing.

Mom leans next to me. "I think it's cool."

"Well, obviously it's cool. But I expected to be a bit more…blown away. I dunno."

"What did you expect? It's just giant faces in a mountain."

"Huh."

* * *

Mom starts driving again. "Bella, maybe…I mean, you're right," she says, not 15 minutes after we left Mount Rushmore.

"Huh?" I say, though I'm pretty sure I know what she means.

"You're right about me being a bad mom. But, then, I never really had a good example. When I found out I was pregnant with you, I just…I promised myself I wouldn't be the same kind of mother as mine, but I guess…I took it too far, didn't I?"

"You never talk about her," I say, avoiding the topic she really wants to discuss.

"Oh, well, she was very strict. She was pretty old when I was born, and, uh, died early. But I always felt so smothered around her, so I just tried to never be that way with you, and I guess…well, that was the problem, huh? I went too easy on you and expected you to be able to handle things yourself, and sometimes handle things for me…" Her voice trails off and she chews her lip. "Like dry-cleaning. I can never remember which clothes need to be taken in and which I can wash myself, and then if I take them in, I don't remember it. I guess it just became clear, early on, that you were so much like your father. You remember things and you're responsible, which I knew I could rely on."

I nod, distinctly uncomfortable.

"I messed up, kiddo. But I need you to understand something," Mom says, and she unconsciously pushes her hair out of her face. "You are _not_ screwed up. You are the best daughter anyone could ever have asked for—a whole heck of a lot better than I was, okay? And your friends. Your friends are so lucky to have someone like you. I'm sorry I made you move to Phoenix with me. It was selfish. I wanted someone who would love me unconditionally, and…well, I had you."

We're quiet for a while, and softly I say, "You still have me."

* * *

I take another turn driving after we stop for gas.

Mom tries talking to me again. "Is there…anything else, Bella? I know I'm more of a friend than a mother, but I mean, that's good, right? You can talk to me. Always."

I twitch, startled. "Um."

"What about boys?" Mom asks.

I smile, thinking of Emmett's earlier statement. "I'm not dating anyone."

"Do you want to be? I assume not that…Leon…boy from Billings."

"Lionel, and no, I didn't really like him. I was just being friendly."

"Huh. So what about Jasper?"

I grimace. "I think I hate him."

"Wow."

"I thought I was over it, but I mean…last night, when I yelled all that stuff at you…I realized a lot of things I didn't even know about myself. Like being mad. I think I've just been ignoring all my anger, which is great, you know, if I never get triggered, but like…this doesn't seem healthy. So yeah, I think I still kind of hate Jasper."

"That's okay, Bella. He was a jerk."

"Yes," I agree.

"There's another boy," Mom says, sniffing slightly.

I shift in the driver's seat. "Yeah. I mean, I like him. But I think I'm kind of mad at him, too."

"Who? And how come?"

I chew my lip. "His name is Edward, and, uh, because he hated me when I first moved back. For no reason, as far as I can tell. He's never told me his reasoning, anyway."

"Huh," Mom says, frowning. "That's…weird. Maybe you should talk it out with him."

"I'm working up to that," I say, shrugging. "Our friendship is kind of recent."

* * *

"Is there anything else I should know?" Mom asks. We're tucked into motel room beds, lights out, alarm clock glowing.

"No."

"Hmmm…"

We're quiet for a long time, before I ask, "Mom…about Phil."

"What about him?"

"I just had a really weird dream," I say quietly. "Phil wasn't even the weirdest part, but I mean, the whole thing was weird."

"What happened in the dream?"

"Nothing, like, bad. It just gave me a weird feeling."

"Like what?" Mom asks.

"Like…what do you know about him and his life before you met him?" The dream was one thing, but Edward's reaction any time I mentioned Phil was another thing that seemed odd to me. I couldn't understand it.

"Um, just that he was married one other time. I guess he had a pretty messy divorce. We bonded over that."

"Did you ever meet his wife?"

"No, she died."

"Oh," I say, frowning. "Okay." That confirms and denies absolutely nothing.

* * *

**Thursday, June 18, 2009**

* * *

"We're driving to St. Louis today," Mom says breezily when she walks into the room, holding another weird drink that was, apparently, going to serve as breakfast.

I've just come out of the shower, so I take the drink and set it on my nightstand before dropping the towel and pulling on underwear. "Thanks. What's in it?"

"You don't want to know," Mom answers, shrugging. "But it's fruity, so I thought you'd like it."  
"Uh-huh," I agree, and tug a t-shirt over my head. My wet hair sticks to my neck and under my shirt, so I tug it out of the collar and towel-dry it for a couple seconds. "How far is St. Louis?"

"Oh, eight, nine hours. Somewhere in there. I'm not worried. And tomorrow morning, we're going up the Arch!"

I nod and sip the drink she gave me. "This is good. Pomegranate?"

"There's some of that in there," she agrees.

"Cool," I say, and yank my pants on. "Can I drive first?"

"Sure," she says.

I feel really relaxed today, partially because I did talk everything out with Mom the day before. It also helps that I slept for like nine hours last night. Sleep is such a great thing.

I hesitate to think I'm not mad any more, because I probably am. I don't know how to get over it, still, and a big part of me wants to shove it underneath layers of gotta-do-this-now the way I did before, but the rest of me thinks that's a pretty awful idea. So I resist and, instead, try to figure out another way to get over it.

Talking really did seem to help. I've never really confronted my mom about the whole thing with Dad before. Obviously she knew I was upset about her uprooting me and moving me to Phoenix before, but telling her off for her parenting tactics was new. And weirdly, I feel better about it.

She's wrong about me not being screwed up, though, because I definitely am. Otherwise I would have had friends in Phoenix, okay?

But I don't talk much for the first leg of our trip. I just sip my drink until it's all gone, and pull over at the first rest area so we can walk around for a couple of minutes. We've just been driving for an hour and a half, but that's long enough for me to need a stretching break. How truck drivers operate will forever be a mystery to me.

I let mom take a turn driving and check my phone for messages. I am clearly the worst texter in the world.

I have thirty text messages this time, mostly from Emmett again.

From: Emmett  
Hey, did you talk to her about stuff?  
I'm getting kind of worried about you, so like, text me when you can.  
There's a disturbance in the bromance…  
Seriously is everything okay? I'm getting the feeling that it's not.  
Did I do something?  
Did Rose?  
Edward is dumb so ignore whatever he did okay?  
Is your mom feeding you anything besides powdered margarine and tomatoes on white bread?  
I have the first season of Scrubs on DVD. As soon as you get back we're going ham on this.  
I love you Belly Bean.  
That's right, I pulled out the kid nickname.  
Because you're my favorite person (don't tell Rose)  
When you get back, I have a present for you. It's just chocolate.  
Well it's made entirely of chocolate. I don't think you can call this gift "just" anything.  
Edward says he didn't do anything to upset you recently. Should I believe him?  
I didn't ask Rose because I thought she might murder me for accusing her at all.  
She probably would.  
I love you Bella.

I giggle as I read them, and Mom shoots me a look. "Emmett texting you?" she asks.

"Yeah," I say, smiling. I'm so lucky to have him.

"I used to hope you two would date when you were older," Mom says, chuckling a little. "Before we moved, you know. I just always thought you two were really cute together."

"Ew, Mom!" I say, grimacing. "He's like my brother." Only that's not right. He's more than a brother, more than a friend, but not in a romantic way. I can honestly say I've never had the desire to make out with him.

Mom just shakes her head.

"It would be easy, though," I say, shrugging. I type out my response to Emmett.

To: Emmett  
Mom thinks we should date, lol. And yeah, there was a disturbance, but I'm totally not mad at you or Rose. I just talked it out with my Mom and I guess I'm still mad about…a lot.  
Also, I'm very excited for this chocolate masterpiece and to see Scrubs.

"It would be easy," Mom is saying, so I look back at her. "Just think about it."

"Mom, come on," I say, rolling my eyes. "Emmett and Rose were like, written in the stars or something. There's no way I would ever touch that."

"I guess it's good that you're so chummy with both of them," Mom says, and she merges into the fast lane.

I grimace and tense. "Uh, yeah," I say. I tighten my seat belt, because Mom is sure to start her reckless driving now. The sooner I can turn my attention away from the road, the better. "Wait, who even says 'chummy'? That's ridiculous, Mom."

"People say chummy."

"They don't."

From: Rose  
Emmett thinks ur upset, n I trust his instincts.  
whts wrong?  
not mad me, rite? Or em?  
Em thinks ur mad Edward. y/n?  
Or maybe ur mom?  
srry if im bothering u  
I no u cant answer these fast so dnt worry  
is it ok if I keep txting tho  
Em thinks u told ur mom about bein mad. Did u?  
ily

I really wouldn't break Emmett and Rose up. The trust there is ridiculous and amazing, considering that Emmett regularly tells me I'm his favorite person while knowing that Rose is pretty aware of it. And Rose isn't even remotely jealous, because like I said, Emmett and I have never been even vaguely tempted to kiss. They're adorable and perfect.

It would probably be less good if Rose wasn't also my best friend.

To: Rose  
I'm sure Emmett already told you, but yeah, I talked to mom and things got hairy. I'm not mad at you though. And you never bother me!

The last text is from Edward.

From Edward:  
Everything cool?

It's easy to answer that, because I've been mad at him all along without realizing it. In fact, I feel pretty much the same about him, so interacting is pretty easy.

To: Edward  
Things have been interesting for sure.

Emmett has texted me back.

From: Emmett  
Did you tell her we were? I told you that was a good idea. And I noticed you didn't say anything about Edward. Mad at him?

I laugh out loud.

"What?" Mom asks.

"Emmett says I should have told you we were dating," I say. Mentally I add, to get you off my back. But she probably picked up on that even if it was silent. I allow myself to feel a tiny bit of guilt for that, but really, who wants to talk to their mom about boys?

"Ha," Mom says, looking distinctly not amused.

Whatever.

To: Emmett  
Mom is not amused. And it's, uh, complicated.

My phone buzzes immediately.

From: Emmett  
So you are mad at Edward.

To: Emmett  
Kind of? But not really…

From: Emmett  
Explain, Belly. I won't tell anyone.

To: Emmett  
Remember how he hated me for the longest time?

From: Emmett  
Yeah.

To: Emmett  
I guess I'm not really over that.

From: Emmett  
That's okay, Bella. You guys have all this unresolved tension. And not all of it is hatred.  
If you're picking up what I'm putting down. ;)  
If you do end up dating my brother, which, btw, is totally cliché, I'm cool with it.

To: Emmett  
Thanks, you dweeb. I love you.

From: Emmett  
I love you too

* * *

**Friday, June 19, 2009**

* * *

Mom and I share a tram with an old couple from Houston as we ascend the Arch.

Mom chatters with the old woman, who introduces herself as Ms. Elizabeth Renford and explains that this is their first vacation not spent in Branson since they got married thirty years ago, which makes me press my hand against my mouth to keep from laughing.

Mom pokes my side in an effort to make me stop and tells Ms. Renford that I usually live with my dad but I'm spending the summer with her.

When we get to the top of the arch and lean over a window—Mom grasping my arm and laughing as the arch sways—I wrap an arm around her waist and whisper, "Thanks." in her ear.

"For what?" she asks.

"You said I live with Dad," I say, shrugging.

"I'm not going to fight a losing battle," she says. "You're happy there. Why would I take you away?"

I feel a swell of gratitude and pull her in for a hug and kiss.

She grins at me and tucks hair behind my ear. "You haven't given me a kiss since you were nine."

"Guess I just love you more, now," I say and lean back into her side.

She grumbles at that, but smiles and curls an arm around my shoulder.

I don't want to say that her giving me what I wanted made me forgive her, but it kind of did. If I think about it more deeply, it's because, for once, she listened to me, and it wasn't about dry-cleaning. That means more than anything else could have.

* * *

We stop for the day in Nashville.

"I've never been to Nashville," I say.

"Well, the music scene is interesting," Mom says, shrugging.

"You've never been here, either," I accuse.

Mom laughs. "Nah," she agrees.

So of course we go to the Parthenon, because we're tourists and what else is even worthwhile?

"It's cool," I say. "Not like Greece, I imagine."

Mom shrugs. "We have no idea."

"True."

Falling back into my friendship with Mom is easier this time; maybe because I feel like I finally broke through to her. That's the best thing that could have happened. I want to keep it this way, and this time, I think it's possible.

"You really think I'm not screwed up?" I ask her as we collapse into motel beds.

"I think you're the best daughter in the world," Mom says, rolling on her side to face me from across the room.

I smile at her. "Thanks, Mom." I can't lie to her and say she's the best mom, but I won't say that to her, either. I know how to compromise. And anyway, she's been making strides of improvement. And she _did_ keep me fed for seventeen years...gave me the sex talk…encouraged me to be myself, in her own flighty way. "You've been all right."

"Oh, shut up," Mom laughs, and throws a pillow at me.

* * *

**Saturday, June 20, 2009**

* * *

"Let's drive to Atlanta," Mom sings the following morning while handing me juiced veggies and fruit.

"Is that a real song?" I ask, slurping noisily.

"Dunno," she says, and sips a big section of her own drink. "Let's go, though. Nashville is not my scene."

"Yeah, okay," I say, and follow her out to the car.

We ride in silence for a while. Mom is driving and I have my feet propped up on the dash. "Thanks for this, Mom," I say after thirty minutes of nothing. "You were right about this bringing us back together."

She smiles at me. "I have to get some things right," she says, shrugging.

"You do," I agree, and finish my drink. "Get things right, I mean."

She ducks her head before returning her attention to the road. "Thanks."

* * *

**Sunday, June 21, 2009**

* * *

"I don't know if I should be impressed that we traversed the country in a week or scared," I tell her as we pull up to her house in Jacksonville that night.

"Yes," Mom answers gleefully. "Call your dad to tell him we made it."

"Okay," I say, and pull my phone out to dial Dad.

Phil runs out of the house while the phone is still ringing. He kisses Mom in greeting, waves cheerfully at me, and starts pulling stuff out of the hatch.

I grin at him, and yell, "Hello!" just as Dad picks up.

"Uh, hey, Bells," Dad says.

"Oh, sorry, I was yelling at Phil," I say quickly. "I just wanted to let you know we made it."

"Good," Dad says, clearly relieved.

I can hear him hesitating, so I say, "We talked. I think we're good now."

"Good," Dad says, and he sounds even more relieved about this. "No problems on the road?"

"Nope," I say, and get out of the car to stretch. "Surprisingly, Mom knows all the tricks to avoiding cops. You have anything to do with that?"

"Ha! Rebellious ex-wives of cops…No, she figured that out by herself. She likes speeding too much."

I smile softly. "I love you, Dad."

"Love you, too, Bells."

I feel my eyes well up because that's the second time he's told me he loves me in a week. "I miss you," I whisper honestly.

"You'll be back before you know it," he promises.

"Yeah," I say, but my voice sounds hopeless and pitiful.

"Chin up, girl. We raised you better than this," Dad says, and he's teasing, so I let myself smile again.

"Okay, okay. Bye, Dad."

"Bye," he says, and then hangs up.

It's easy to see where I got my phone avoidance from.

* * *

**Tuesday, June 23, 2009**

* * *

The first indication I get that Phil is being anything less than normal is when I mention Edward to Mom.

"He's been texting me a lot," I say, sitting down next to her on the couch. I've been avoiding the outdoors the whole time I've been here because, as I predicted, I can't deal with the humidity.

"Edward?" Mom clarifies. "Obviously he likes you."

I shrug. "Yeah. I think so."

"Who's Edward?" Phil asks.

"Esme and Carlisle adopted him a couple years ago," I explain. "He's my age."

"Oh," Phil says, and stands abruptly, looking at his watch. "I have that practice," he explains. "I gotta go." He kisses Mom and leaves pretty quickly after that.

I shoot Mom a questioning look, but she looks just as confused. But she shrugs it off. "Put your suit on. We are going to the beach."

"Do you have sunscreen?" I ask wearily, and when she nods, I go down the hall to change.

* * *

**Friday, June 26, 2009**

* * *

Turns out I really like the beach. The air is still disgustingly wet, but the sun is hot and the water feels amazing. I've always been okay at swimming, but Mom makes it her mission to make me confident enough to swim out to the sandbar, and after swimming in the ocean for three days straight, I'm finally feeling bold enough to try it.

Mom swims next to me with even strokes while I swim forward in short burst and kicks. I'm inconsistent, but I keep moving easily enough.

"Isn't the sun amazing?" Mom asks, still swimming.

I have to stop swimming to answer. "Ye…yeah," I answer, and start swimming again.

"Even you might get a tan!" she says, delighted. "I think you look a little darker."

"A little pinker," I corrected. Florida sun was ridiculous. I put on sunblock hourly and still ended up pink every day. Still, I was glad it hadn't morphed into an actual sunburn. My skin was barely even sensitive, so that was good.

"No matter," Mom says, shrugging. "You'll be brown after a few weeks."

"Sure," I say, only to placate her.

She grins. "You can walk now."  
I set my feet down and discover that she's right. "This is so cool." It _is_ cool. The water is clear and a beautiful green-blue. I can see my feet squishing into the sand, and tiny fish swimming around. They nip at my moles and freckles. I scrunch up my nose and complain, "The fish are _biting_ me."

"Does it hurt?" Mom asks. A wave picks her up and sets her back down.

"No, but it's weird."

"Yeah, they do that. It's no big deal."

I don't like it, but I shrug and kick my feet a little, scaring the fish off for the moment. "Has Phil been acting weird lately, or was that my imagination?"

"He's been weird," Mom agrees. "Maybe he's nervous about you dating a boy he's never met."

"He's not my dad," I say automatically. "And we aren't dating." But Mom's answer is the only one I can think of that really makes sense. His weirdness about Edward is disconcerting. "It's just…Edward always acted weird if I mentioned Phil, too," I explain.

"Really?" Mom asks, walking closer to me.

"Mmhmm," I answer, stretching my arms over my head. The sun feels so _good_. It's almost enough to convince me to stay.

"You could ask Phil about it," Mom says, shrugging. "You guys were always pretty cool with each other. I doubt he'd take issue with it."

"Maybe—AUGH, I can't take these fish any more," I say, and start swimming ashore, kicking the fish away from my legs as I go.

* * *

**Saturday, July 4, 2009**

* * *

From: Edward  
Happy Independence Day, Bella. Planning on catching the fireworks down there?

From: Emmett  
I'm going to light off seven bottle rockets in your honor.

From: Rose  
Happy 4th of July!

I giggle as I read through all the messages.

"Who're you texting?" Phil asks, coming into the room to sit next to me. He has an hour or two before he has to head to the game he's playing today, so he's still lounging around in sweats.

"My friends," I answer, smiling at him. "Emmett, Rose, and Edward."

He nods and takes a long drink of his orange juice. He's managed to stop flinching every time I mention Edward, but I can tell he's still completely unnerved by my mention of him.

"You get in a fight with an Edward in high school or something?" I ask, typing a response.

To: Emmett  
Don't shoot your eye out, please.

"No," he answered, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I just knew a kid named Edward. Things got weird."

"Weird how?" I ask. "Did you coach him or something?"

To: Rose  
Thanks. Happy fourth to you, too!

Phil shrugged. "No. I just, uh, knew him."

I sigh, because clearly he's not going to answer any further questions. "Okay."

To: Edward  
Thanks, you too. We're watching them in the baseball stadium after Phil's game tonight. Should be fun!

"Look, Bella, it's complicated. And I wouldn't want to bore you," Phil said, shrugging. He finishes his glass of orange juice.

"No prob," I say, shrugging. If Phil doesn't want to talk, I can't make him. He's not really my authority figure (he could be my brother, okay?) but I'm not his authority figure, either.

My phone buzzes.

From: Emmett  
Still mad at the world?

To: Emmett  
I don't think so. I guess we'll see when I get home.

"Do you want some orange juice?" Phil asks.

"No, thanks," I say, shifting positions on the couch so I can face him more easily. "Nervous about the game tonight?"

"Of course not," Phil says, grinning. "As you know, I was born ready!"

I snort, but nod at him. "Right you are."

From: Emmett  
Who're you mad at again?

"Who are you playing?" I ask, chewing my lip as I consider Emmett's question.

Phil sets his empty glass down on the coffee table and stretches an arm across the back of the couch. "Team from Georgia," he says. "Not really that important. We're gonna win."

To: Emmett  
Definitely Jasper. Maybe Alice? And possibly still Edward. Maybe.

"Well, good," I say, tucking my phone into my back pocket and crossing my legs. "You deserve it."

Phil beams at me and offers me a fist.

I bump it with my own fist and beam at him.

* * *

From: Emmett  
I get being mad at Jasper and Alice because they totally deserve it. But Edward has legitimate reasons. Kind of. Okay, they're stupid. But he has reasons for being weird when he first met you. Trust me.  
Give him a chance to explain everything.  
I'm not going to tell him you're upset. I think you should. But believe me…messed up stuff happened to him, Bella. He's kinda wacked out because of it.

* * *

Phil's team did win the game—7 to 5, and Phil even got to play, which is awesome. He was stuck in the locker room with the team while we rearranged ourselves in our seats to watch the fireworks.

When the first one went off, I leaned closer to Mom and rested my head on her shoulder. "Mom?" I mumbled.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"I'm glad I came."

"Me too."

* * *

**Wednesday, July 8, 2009**

* * *

"Bella," Mom began, and then stopped as she got pulled under a wave.

I floated over it gracefully (or at least sort of gracefully) and waited.

She resurfaced as the wave passed, only slightly worse for wear. To her credit, she acted as though nothing had happened at all. "I was just curious. Are you still mad at me?"

Another wave comes, and this time, I let myself sink under it. When it passes, I chew my now salt-covered bottom lip. "I don't know," I answer honestly. "I don't want to be mad, but I don't want to get rid of it the same way I did last time, because that obviously didn't work."

"Hmm," is all Mom says in reply.

"I think I feel better though," I say, hurriedly. "Can I think about it today? I'll let you know tomorrow."

"Sure," Mom says, but she's quiet for a long time. It's not silent by any means—not only are the waves crashing all around us, but seagulls fly overhead and kids shriek in joy without pause. But Mom being quiet is unnatural. With Dad and even Phil, I'm used to quiet moments. But Mom has always been a talker.

I duck under the water and resurface, pushing hair out of my face. "Are you mad at me?" I ask nervously.

"What? No, of course not. It's normal for teenagers to be mad and hate their mothers," Mom says, smiling weakly.

I swim closer to her. "I don't hate you."

Mom's smile doesn't change, but she reaches out and pushes a single strand of hair off my forehead. "You're a little darker," she offers.

Finally, I return her smile. "Who would have thought that was possible?"

* * *

**Thursday, July 9, 2009**

* * *

From: Emmett  
How are you feeling?

From: Rose  
miss u bella.

From: Dad  
Everything still ok?

From: Edward  
Hey.

* * *

Mom hands me a glass of orange juice. "It's local," she says cheerfully.

Shocker.

Despite the fact that I'm (still) unimpressed with the excess of orange juice available in Florida, I take the glass and gulp down a mouthful.

"Eggs?" she questioned, already moving toward the stove.

"Please," I say, smiling. I lift my phone and snap a picture of myself smiling. Looks like my teeth still aren't orange. That's good at least.

I delete the picture and text my friends back (I'm great; I miss you too; yeah; hi).

Mom drops a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me.

"Thanks," I say, grinning and digging in. "Ah, cheese. You are actually the best."

Mom beams, and I smile back at her.

While washing my plate, I grab Mom's wrist and say, "I'm not mad."

And I'm not.

* * *

**Thursday, July 16, 2009**

* * *

Mom won't let me go, which is going to be an issue in a few minutes. I have a little over an hour before my plane takes off, and I'll need that hour to get through security and to my gate. Frozen yogurt is out of the question now.

I sigh and pat Mom's back. "I love you, Mom." Carefully I untangle myself from her embrace.

Phil seems really amused about the whole thing, and just hugs me loosely before pushing me toward the gate. "Bye, Bells."

"Good bye, sweetheart," Mom shouts as I walk away, waving.

Thank goodness for long flights and my ability to sleep in pressurized environments.

* * *

I wake up about twenty minutes from landing in Seattle and stretch my arms over my head for a minute, yawning. It will be nice to be home.

For the last several minutes, I organize my carry on bag, wrapping my headphones up and tucking them into a special pocket in my bag. I tie my shoes again and cross my legs.

I stare at the approaching Seattle skyline, a content smile on my face.

It will be _so, so_ nice to be home.

Finally we're landing and people start to stand. I turn my phone on, revealing a handful of texts from my parents, friends, and…Phil?

I open Dad's as I shuffle down the aisle, carry-on bag clutched close.

From: Dad  
Text me when you land.

I send him the obligatory text quickly, and then forward it to my mom, guessing that's what she'll have texted me.

I switch over to her message, and sure enough, it's the same, plus an "I love you so much!"

From: Rose  
Hey, ur comin back 2day, rite? When u do we should get food

To: Rose  
Yeah, that sounds great

I smile at the stewardess as I pass her, and she smiles back. "Have a nice day," she says.

From: Emmett  
Bella, baby. I'm pining for you.

I roll my eyes. What a dork. Still, I send him a promise to hang out as soon as I can.

From: Edward  
Hey.

Apparently this is all I'm going to get from him, so I just answer with a simple, "Hi." Phil's message is what I was curious about in any case, so I switch over to that.

From: Phil  
In my previous marriage, I had a stepson named Edward. It's no big deal. We're just estranged. I never adopted him or anything.

_What_?

I stare blankly at my phone for a long minute before turning locking it and tucking it in my pocket. My mind is blank up until I pull my bag off of the conveyor belt and shuffle over to where Dad is waiting.

As soon as I'm close enough, he pulls me into a tight embrace. I giggle when his mustache tickles my forehead.

"Missed you, Dad," I mumble into his ear.

"I missed you, too, Bella," he says, and then takes my luggage. "I got you. Let's go."

He doesn't make me talk, which is great, because I'm still reeling from Phil's text message.

Is it possible that Edward was Phil's stepson? It doesn't make sense, on one hand, because Phil is only ten years older than us. But then again, I'm his stepdaughter. Maybe he has a type.

Man. What a thought.

I try to tell myself it's not that way but I can't stop thinking it.

Edward hates a guy named Phil. Phil used to have a stepson named Edward. They both lived in Phoenix not too long ago.

I'm not sure there's any other conclusion I could draw.


	22. I Count Time in Milkshakes

**Chapter 21 - I Count Time in Milkshakes**

* * *

**Friday, July 17, 2009**

Somehow it isn't surprising to be woken up by being poked repetitively in the stomach.

I groan and roll onto my side. "Hi, Rose," I mumble, and pull my blankets over my head.

"Are you jetlagged? That doesn't really make sense." She tugs on the blankets.

"Ah," I say, clutching the blankets more tightly. "No. I'm just tired. What time is it?"

Rose manages to pull them off of my head, and starts playing with my hair. "Nine. Emmett wanted to come by earlier but I convinced him to wait."

"Bless your soul," I sigh, and sit up, rubbing my eyes tiredly. "Let me get dressed and eat breakfast. Is he downstairs?"

"With Edward," Rose says, nodding. "We're all very excited to see you again."

"I'm excited to see you, too," I say, stumbling across my room. I catch myself on my dresser and start rifling through my clothes. I settle on some loose white t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

"You _did_ get a tan," Rose says, beaming. "Your tan lines are stunning."

I look down at my bare chest as I pull a bra on. There are two strips of white over my collarbones, surrounded by slightly darker skin. "Amazing," I say. "Florida sun is amazing."

"Will you take me next time?" Rose asks wistfully.

"In a heartbeat," I say, grinning lazily.

She beams. "No boys allowed."

"Right," I agree, tugging the shorts over my thighs. "They're gross."

Someone knocks on my door, and I hear Emmett shout, "I am not gross!"

"Yes, you are," we chorus.

I pull my hair back and smile. "Let's go, then." We troop out of the room only for me to be gathered up in Emmett's arms and carried down the stairs. I wrap my arms loosely around his neck and let my head loll onto his shoulder. "Thanks, Em."

Edward is sitting at the kitchen table, messing around on his phone, but when we end up in the room and Emmett sets me down in a chair, he grins at me. "Hey. Good to have you back!"

"Thanks," I say, and I feel the blush creeping up my cheeks.

I'm saved from any further embarrassment by Emmett slamming a bowl of cereal down in front of me. "Tell me when," he instructs, and starts pouring milk.

"Stop," I say quickly, and dig into my cereal. "Thanks. Now stop looking at me while I eat."

Just for that, Emmett watches me the entire time I eat, but Rose and Edward have half a conversation about how awful the latest Ice Age movie was. "They're still making those?" I ask around a mouthful of corn flakes.

"Unfortunately," Rose says, sighing.

"Those movies are works of art," Emmett says, affronted.

Edward rolls his eyes. "As a side note," he breaks in, "We have tickets for Harry Potter, which came out at midnight last night. You in?"

"You didn't go to the premiere?" I ask.

"In Forks?" Emmett says, raising an eyebrow.

"Point taken. Yeah, I'm in. The Half-Blood Prince was my favorite book after Prisoner of Azkaban," I say, which leads to a big argument about which book is the best. Rose favors Chamber of Secrets, while Emmett likes The Deathly Hallows. But of course Edward has to drop the biggest bomb on us. "My favorite is the Order of the Phoenix."

"Are you _freaking_ kidding me right now, Edward?" Emmett demanded. "That's the one where Sirius dies—"

"And Umbridge!" Rose yells.

But Edward just shrugs. "I really relate to Harry in that one."

Which of course makes Emmett stop, stewing angrily.

I crunch on my cereal in the ensuing silence, wondering if Phil was Edward's Snape.

* * *

I ride with Edward in the back of Emmett's jeep when we drive to the movie theatre after I finish eating. They'd gotten morning tickets to ensure that we'd all be able to see the movie and sit together, so we arrived about thirty minutes early to the 11:00 showing.

We grab four of the best seats, right in the middle, only of course that leads to an argument about who was sitting where. Edward ends up on one end, next to Emmett, who makes me sit next to him, and then with Rose on the other end.

"I swear, if you two try to hold hands behind my head, I will end you," I tell Emmett and Rose.

"What if I bribe you with popcorn?" Emmett asks.

"No."

"What if I bribe you with chocolate?" he tries again.

"End you," I reiterate.

He pouts. "I don't want to sit next to you any more."

"Tough," Rose says, gripping my arm tightly.

When they reach behind me while Draco is putting the apple in the vanishing cabinet, I steal Emmett's popcorn. "I hear bribery is an option," I tell him when he protests quietly.

He grunts but Rose shakes with laughter next to me, and I can tell they aren't going to stop holding hands any time soon.

* * *

The thing about having best friends who date is that they can get a little absorbed in themselves. "Do you think this is what Harry felt like with Ron and Hermione?" I ask Edward while watching Rose and Emmett share an oreo milkshake like it's…1950 or something. Jeez. It's adorable, but seriously? I just got back.

I do my best not to pout.

"Are you Harry?" Edward asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure," I say, leaning back into the booth. My own milkshake is strawberry, and it is delicious. "Rose is Hermione and Emmett is Ron."

"The Golden Trio," he says drily.

I glance at him to make sure he doesn't feel left out. "Oh, no worries, you're like our Ginny. By the time we're this age, it's more of a Golden…um, Quadro?"

He smirks. "Right. So you're all going to run off and slay the Dark Lord without me?"

"And you'll hold down the school with Neville," I say, nodding.

"Waiting for you to come back," Edward finishes, holding my gaze firmly.

I flush suddenly, because Ginny and Harry's romance had never been on the forefront of my mind. It had seemed to come out of nowhere in the books, but even more so in the movies. But if we were making this comparison, it was completely logical to note the relationship. "Um, yeah," I say at last, and pull the straw back into my mouth. When in doubt, drink a milkshake. Or dance out. The point is, shut it down.

No such luck, though. "Um. So. How was your summer with the Dursleys then?" he asks. His eyes are focused on my mouth and he swallows as he drags his eyes back up.

I laugh a little, albeit nervously. "Oh, Mom and Phil aren't that bad! And Forks isn't Hogwarts, but it is like coming home, you know?"

Edward barely even blinks at the mention of Phil, but he does smile. "It feels more like home with you here."

I shiver slightly.

"Cold?" he asks.

I blush and lift my milkshake. "Yeah."

I almost expect him to do something ridiculous like wrap an arm around me, because it's summer time and it's not like he has a jacket to offer. Instead, he says, "Want to go sit outside?"

I chew my lip—and that draws his eyes again, jeez—but nod. "Okay."

Rose and Emmett are giggling at each other too much to pay much attention to us, but Emmett catches my eye as we stand and gives an exaggerated wink. A glance at Rose shows her giving me a thumbs up.

I feel my blush spread down to my collarbone. My friends are douchebags.

The thing is, Forks is warm in July, but it's nothing like Florida. It's not even that humid—just enough to make sweating a little easier. So it's warm while Edward and I sit outside at a picnic table, slurping up milkshakes with abandon, but not hot like Rose and Emmett seem to think it is. Like I would have thought it was before leaving.

Small blessings.

Edward's is chocolate chip mint or something like that, and that seems so expected that I almost giggle about it. I resist the temptation because it seems pretty freaking weird to comment on that _now_, when we've been drinking milkshakes for at least ten minutes.

"Something funny?" Edward asks, even though I valiantly held in the giggle.

"Nah," I answer, smiling at him. "It's just nice to be here."

He smiles back. "Well I'm going to go the cliché route here and say it's nice to have you back. A fellow third wheel."

We're kind of leaning toward each other and that makes me smile even more, because Edward is getting more and more comfortable with me and that means—that means—

Well, for one, I won't be as lonely without Rose and Emmett. But also…I look at his mouth again, just as his tongue darts out to catch a bit of shake on his lip.

Well _now_ it's hot outside.

I swallow nervously and start drinking my shake again. _Don't think about it, don't think about it._

I'm thinking about it.

"Hey, you've uh…got something," Edward says, his hands moving up to my face and flicking something at the corner of my mouth.

"Oh," I breathe. "Thanks."

He winces. "Sorry, that was really cliché, huh?"

"A little," I agree, and we both laugh. That tones down the tension a little, but I scoot closer to him anyway. I just really want to be close to him.

His arm brushes against mine as we finish our milkshakes, and we don't talk much until it gets cloudy and he sighs. "It's probably going to rain soon," he says mournfully.

"Yeah," I agree. "Want to go back inside?"

He nods and takes my empty cup. "I've got it."

"Thanks," I say, and slide off of the bench, waiting for him to throw our cups in the garbage. "What else do you guys have planned for today?"

"Nothing much," he admits. "I think we were just going back to our place to hang out. Maybe play video games."

"That sounds fun," I say, smiling up at him.

He smiles back. "With you, sure."

I elbow him and laugh. "Don't you like Rose and Em?"

He wrinkles his nose. "_Sometimes_."

I giggle the whole way back to the table where Rose and Emmett are sitting. "You guys ready to go?"

"Sure," Rose says, drawing the word out. "I've been prepping all last month to kick your butt at Halo."

"You did that before," I remind her, but smile as she slides out of the booth and slides her hand into mine.

"Yeah," she agrees loosely. "Let's go, anyway."

* * *

**Saturday, August 1, 2009**

"I'm scared," Rose whispers one day, while we're shopping at the only clothing store in Forks. "About being in a big city with no one but Emmett."

I pat her shoulder. "You can do it," I say. I don't really feel like it's necessary to say much else, because I know she _can_ do it.

But she still looks nervous. "I know I _can_. But I don't want to be sad the whole time."

"You won't be," I say, frowning.

"Or what if Emmett breaks up with me? I'll be alone."  
"You'll have your roommate," I remind her.

She sighs. "She's not _you_."

"I'll come visit. And it's just for a year, right? Then we can get an apartment together or whatever."

"Yeah," Rose sighs. "Should I…I'm really nervous."

"About what?" I ask.

"Sex," she mumbles.

Which wasn't really what I expected. I had halfway suspected that Emmet and Rose had already done it and decided against telling me (which I'd been grateful for). "You…haven't?"

She shakes her head, blushing. "I don't know if I'm ready. Or if I will be for a while."

"It's no big deal," I say, shrugging. "Emmett loves you. You could probably wait ten years."

"You think so?" she asks.

"Yes," I say, pursing my lips. It seems strange to worry about, I realize. "Why are you thinking about it so much?"

She shrugs and picks at a few shirts. "I guess…I just…I know I'm always going to love him, really. I know I'm young but, I just…I know. And we've been dating for a while, you know? Plus, now we'll both be out of the house, and he'll have his own place, and just expect me to...Which would be fine, I just…I don't think I really want to yet."

"So don't," I say, frowning. "And maybe you should talk to him about this sometime. I know it will be awkward, but it's probably better to just tell him candidly than to shut him down in the heat of the moment."

"Yeah, but how do I bring that up?"

"Like you just did with me?" I suggest, a little exasperated. "I don't know why you're asking me. I have zero experience in this area."

"Yet," Rose says, eyeing me significantly. In her own words, "Edward has been macking on you ever since you got back."

And after forcing Rose to explain what "macking" even meant, I could see it. Edward has been remarkably friendly and flirty in his own way, which mostly involved lots of discussions about music and movies, as well as accidental touches. Accidental to the extent that they weren't intentional, but we usually sat and stood close enough to each other that they were bound to happen.

So I roll my eyes and agree, "Yet. Not that I'm not glad to help, but I'm not sure I really know the right way to move forward here."

"But Emmett is your best friend," she suggests hesitantly. "I just thought you would know…?"

"I know he won't be upset about it, Rose. Has he even pressured you about it?"

"No," she admits.

"So just tell him, as a safety measure." I shrug and pull a shirt off the rack. "Try this one. Anyway, look, I swear, Emmett isn't going to break up with you because you don't want to have sex yet. It really isn't a big deal."

Rose sighs. "Are you sure?"

"If he breaks up with you over it, I will poison his Lucky Charms," I say, shrugging.

Rose smiles at that. "You're sure then," she says, sounding relieved. She takes the shirt from me, looks it over, and nods. "Okay."

* * *

**Tuesday, August 11, 2009**

"I'm gonna miss you so much," Emmett huffs into my hair while he spins me around in the yard. "What am I gonna do without you?"

"Kiss Rose," I mumble into his shoulder.

"Yeah, well," he says, rolling his eyes. "Rose is great. And I love her to the moon and back. But you're my best friend, man. I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," I tell him. "Just be happy. I'll come visit."

"Yeah?" he asks, smiling as he sets me down. "You sure?"

"Of course."

So he relaxes, ruffles my hair. "Don't let Edward bully you," he says sternly.

"No problem," I say.

He smiles.

* * *

Saying goodbye to Rose is harder, even though she doesn't fling me around. She just clings to me and shakes. "I'm scared," she whispers. "I'm so scared."

"You can do it," I remind her. "And you can call me whenever. I promise."

"Good," she whispers fiercely. "And you'll visit?"

"As often as I can," I say.

"Good," she says. "Good."

* * *

"So it's just us now," Edward says, and I nod. We drink milkshakes in silence.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or anything else you recognize.

A/N: I really want milkshakes right now, but I'm wearing a sports bra and pajama bottoms, so that seems like a lot of effort. Anyway, sorry this took so long! However, to the anon who complained that I haven't updated in a month, you do realize I've gone entire semesters without updating, right? Cut me some slack. I'm entirely overwhelmed with school and work.

This entire chapter is dedicated to furthering the romance...it's a big deal!


	23. So This is What You Meant

**Trigger Warning:** Mentions of suicide.

**Chapter 22 - When You Said that You Were Spent**

* * *

**Monday, August 19, 2009**

"Hey, Bella, wait up!"

I turn to see Alice power walking toward me. "Uh, hey, Alice," I say, albeit a little warily. "What's up?"

"Oh, um, nothing much. Did you have a good summer?"

"Yeah, it was nice. I spent a month in Florida and the rest of the time with Emmett and Rose."

"And Edward," Alice supplies helpfully.

I nod slowly. "Um, yeah."

She shrugs. "It's okay, Bella. Obviously it's a little bit painful, but…" She pauses and twists her fingers together. "Losing him was my fault. I'm not going to be mad at you."

"Really?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

"Yeah," she says. "I wanted to apologize, again. I was pretty horrible to you last year, just in general. I want to start over, ideally, but I know that's not possible. So I just wanted to make sure you're going to be cool with working with me on yearbook."

I shrug. "I'm not gonna lie, Alice. I'm pretty mad at you."

Alice winces. "I know."

"But," I say, sighing. "I also know you're a really great photographer and I absolutely trust your judgment when it comes to yearbook. Okay?"

Alice relaxes. "Really?"

"Really. And we can work through our issues this year, okay? Because I'm sure you're a nice girl, because both Jasper and Edward seem to think so, yeah?" I pause and wrinkle my nose. "Nope, too soon."

"Edward still…?" Alice says nervously, looking anxious again. "I mean he's lovely but I feel like us not being together is the right decision and I wouldn't want—"

"Are you worried about breaking his heart?" I ask incredulously.

Alice blushes. "Well, when you put it that way, I guess not. But…I did—do! I do, I do care about him. You know? I'd like to minimalize the damage."

I look away from her only to catch the interested glances of Tyler and Jessica as they walk by. Are they dating now? Weird. I would have thought Jessica and Mike would end up together, and then Lauren and Tyler. I smile at them and wave a little.

They look appropriately embarrassed at having been caught staring. "Sorry," Jessica mouths.

I shrug and mime calling her. Jessica used to be my friend, and there's no reason we can't be now. I return my attention to Alice. "Sorry. Uh, look, I don't think you need to worry about residual feelings. He feels very betrayed, and even if he still liked you, I doubt he would trust you enough to hold a candle for you. No offense."

"Uh, no, I deserve it," she says, shrugging. "Don't worry. I'm, um, glad. I mean. I don't really deserve him, you know? Edward was always a really great boyfriend. I mean, I could tell he liked you right away, but he was so worried about cheating on me that he completely avoided you. I mean, that's not the only reason—sorry. I shouldn't say. Um. He'll tell you, eventually, cool? I don't want to overstep or anything, though! Sorry."

I frown at her, carefully processing the words. She's only a couple inches shorter than me, but I take some comfort in the knowledge that I could probably win in a round of mud wrestling.

I spent too much time in Florida, I realize numbly.

"It's okay," I say at last. "Look, uh, let's take baby steps. But with Edward, you should probably aim for less than that. If you want to be his friend again. Which I don't actually recommend. But you might be able to apologize one day."

Alice nods, apparently understanding that. "Bella, just…uh, one more thing, I guess. Why are you…okay with me?"

I shrug. "I wasn't in a relationship with _you_, Alice. I mean, it takes two to cheat, right? I can't blame just you." I pause, considering. "And I'm only a little okay with you."

Alice nods again, more slowly this time. "Um, well, okay. I really, really am sorry, Bella. And, uh, thanks. For yearbook."

"Alice," I say, exasperated. "Didn't you know that yearbook is bigger than just us? Senior year! It has to be the best yearbook yet."

She does smile now. "Yeah, yeah. Senior year."

I tuck a piece of hair back under the hood of my raincoat and offer a tight smile. "See you in class."

"Um, yeah," she says. "Bye."

I nod at her and walk off, jamming my hands into my pockets. That was way less stressful than I thought it would be, plus it offers me new insight to Edward.

So he avoided me at first because he thought I was hot—doubly awesome because it means he likes me but is also an honorable boyfriend—but also for some other reason that I suspect has something to do with Phoenix and Phil.

But how did he connect me with Phil? There's no reason for the pair of us to be linked unless he saw us together sometime, and Edward had said he'd never met me in Phoenix.

Edward continues to be an enigma, and me? I continue to fall for it.

* * *

"So you like Harry Potter," I say without preamble when I sit down across from Edward at lunch. "Favorite character?"

"Harry," he says, not acting even a little surprised at my abrupt topic choice.

"Really?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think I've ever heard any one say that."

"Which is dumb," he says, rolling his eyes. "Obviously Harry is impulsive and has anger issues, but he's also incredibly brave and cares so much about his friends that he's willing to die for them. He should be everyone's favorite character."

I smile and bite into my apple. "Well, when you put it _that_ way."

He smiles back. "Who's yours?"

"Sirius, I guess," I offer. "Or maybe Cedric."

"I get Sirius, but Cedric? Why? Are you really attracted to Robert Pattinson or something?"

"Who isn't?" I ask blankly. "But no, that's not why I like him. I think it's more that he's like a more popular version of me. I want to be him…but a girl."

Edward considers that. "Yeah, okay. So why Sirius?"

"He's the first person that loves Harry completely unconditionally," I explain. "I'd argue that Lupin is more of a father to him, but Sirius is the first one who embraces him without hesitation."

"Not Ron?" Edward suggests.

"Not in the same way," I say, shrugging. "Besides, Harry and Ron fought all the time."

Edward concedes the point and offers me some of his fries.

I accept his defeat and his food.

* * *

**Tuesday, August 20, 2009**

I'm nervous as I arrive at school, because this is the first Tuesday alone with Edward. Of course I can hang out with Angie, but a big part of me doesn't want to leave Edward alone.

If that's what he wants.

When I find him sitting at a picnic table, waiting for me like everything is normal, I'm immediately suspicious.

"Hey," I say cautiously as I sit down. "What's up?"

Edward just shrugs, a little morose.

Okay, I think. So he's still having a bad day, he's just okay with me being here. I can handle that.

So I do handle it. "Do you want me to talk or just sit in companionable silence?"

"Silence," he suggests.

So I nod and pull a book out of my bag to read until the bell rings.

Edward walks with me to class, which is pretty unusual since he never did it last year, but I don't feel like asking him why he's changed his stripes now is a good plan. Besides, this is a step toward letting me in. I don't know Edward very well at this point, besides the fact that he relates to the depressed version of Harry Potter, he's attracted to me, and something bad happened in Phoenix. And while I'm very attracted to Edward, relationships are built on more than mutual attraction. I need him to talk to me and to be able to talk to him before any kind of romance happens here. The problem, of course, is that we're both pretty private people who don't like to tell others about our problems.

"I'll see you later," I tell him as he walks away from my classroom.

His only answer is to lift his hand in a quasi-wave.

Curiouser and curiouser.

* * *

The rest of the day progresses like that. I read my book (and finish it at lunch, actually) and Edward sits quietly, contemplating something. He seems more sad than angry today, which surprises me a little. But now that I think back on it, his anger was usually directed at me. Maybe that means he's quit blaming me for everything now. That's a good step.

At the end of the day, Edward is waiting outside my classroom, and he walks me to my car. "Bella," he says finally, leaning against my car door. "I'd like to tell you about things tomorrow."

"Not today?" I ask.

He shakes his head and offers a rueful grin that comes out as a grimace. "Not on Tuesdays. Too fresh."

I nod. "Yeah, yeah, of course. Do you, um, want me to come over after school? Tomorrow, I mean. You're probably a little tired right now."

"Very," he agreed.

I nod again, and feel a little like a bobble head doll. "Okay, um, sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Great," he says, and he pulls his lips into a tight smile that only serves to make him look more nervous. "Tomorrow."

I reach out a hand and touch his elbow as he leaves. "Edward," I say seriously. "You don't have to tell me anything. We're friends, but I don't want to rush you into anything you aren't ready for."

"I appreciate that, Bella, but I have to admit that my motives aren't completely friendly," he says, and I start. Neither of us have really acknowledged the attraction to each other. But Edward keeps talking and I relax. "Now that Emmett's gone, only Esme and Carlisle know. It's different to get comfort from your parents. Friends are important. I want you…well, I don't _want_ you to know. But I don't want to hide it from you any more, okay?"

"Okay," I say, and I pull my bottom lip into my mouth to chew on anxiously. "Tomorrow, then. Maybe…maybe you should take a nap," I suggest.

"I think I will," he says, and his eyes soften for the first time today. "See you."

"Bye," I say, and stand outside my truck until he's driven out of the lot. I let out a shaky breath then, and hope, hope, _hope_ that Phil has nothing to do with Edward and Tuesdays.

* * *

**Wednesday, August 21, 2009**

I follow Edward home after school the next day, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm nervous about it. "What's the worst that can happen?" I ask myself as I pull into the Cullen driveway, and then grimace when I think about Phil. "Okay."

Edward doesn't get out of his car right away, but I do, and walk over to the Volvo. I lean against the door. "You sure about this?" I ask.

Through the glass, I hear a muffled, "Not really."

"You don't have to tell me anything," I say, and a part of me hopes he'll change his mind, that he won't say anything, that I'll call Emmett tonight and say, "Edward _almost_ told me about what happened in Phoenix." That Rose will say, "Wow, you dodged a bullet because that stuff is _heavy_."

"No," Edward says, and he opens his door. "I should tell you. You're my friend."

I can't say no to that, can I? I smile at him warmly. "Of course. We're great friends."

"No need to be facetious," he says, rolling his eyes. "I'm trying to get us to that state, though."

"Great friends?" I ask, and he nods.

"The best of friends."

"It'd be tough to move Emmett out of that slot," I suggest.

"Well, yeah. But you could be my best friend. Maybe."

I touch his arm, and he doesn't flinch away, to my surprise. "Are you sure you want me to be your best friend."

"No," he says honestly. "But I want to want that. So. Can we?" He gestures at the house. "Esme probably made cookies."

"I'll never say no to cookies," I say, but inside I'm screaming because I'm not ready for this, not at all. I swallow my trepidation and follow him inside.

Esme greets us warmly. "How was your day?" she asks Edward.

"It was fine," he says.

"Bella?"

"Oh, really good, Esme," I say with a smile.

She doesn't seem to notice anything is wrong. "I made some cookies for a client, but I could spare a couple for you two. Hold on just a minute."

We wait in silence. I want to run away. I think Edward does, too, if the stiffness in his shoulder is any indicator.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea-" I start to say, but then Esme is sweeping back into the room, and my smile is firmly affixed to my face.

"Here you go," she says, holding out a plate of chocolate chip cookies. "Don't tell anyone." She winks and taps Edward's nose once.

I've never seen the two of them be affectionate before. It isn't that unusual, seeing how Esme is nearly always the motherly, sweet type. But Edward usually seems so adverse to receiving affection that the interaction seems strange.

But today, he takes the plate from her and curls an arm around her waist. "Thanks, Esme," he says as he hugs her.

So yeah, this is going to be _heavy_.

The hug is short lived, but it still happened. Edward takes the cookies upstairs to his bedroom and I follow him, heart pounding in worry.

When we're sitting in his room, he doesn't say anything for a while, and I start to fidget. "Are you sure?" I ask again, and I want him to say "No, I'm not, in fact, let's try this again. Next year maybe."

"I can't go to Seattle," he says instead of answering me. "I know Emmett will be disappointed that I can't visit him, but I can't go."

"Why not?" I ask, hesitantly. If we're having this discussion, I'm not sure I want it to keep going. But this seems innocuous enough.

It's not, of course. "We-my mom, the one I lived with before-we moved there after living in Phoenix with her old husband."

"Did she remarry?" I ask, because Edward called him her "old husband," and that was weird.

"No," he said, shrugging. "Didn't have time."

Even the way he says that is strange. I struggle to keep the conversation on safe ground, but I don't know what's safe and what isn't. I'm operating blind. "How long did you live with her? You call her your mom, so..."

"She adopted me when I was very young," he says. "Just two years old. I don't remember any one other than her."

"Wow," I say, and I try to think about what that's like. Something I can't put a finger on. Because my parents split up, but there was never any doubt in my mind that they were mine and I was theirs. Biologically, legally, and in our hearts.

He shrugged. "It's never been a big deal. It's not like Hollywood, you know? My birth mother dropped me off at an orphanage when I was born. I've wondered about it idly, but it's not thought-consuming like everyone thinks."

That's mind-boggling in itself. But Hollywood lies about a lot, so it shouldn't be surprising that this is different, too. "Okay," I say. "What was she like?"

"Really nice," he says at last. "Not like Esme, though. She was driven and worked a lot. But she also loved me. She'd come home from work and invite the babysitter to dinner, but then she'd spend the whole dinner talking to me. She didn't cook much, or bake cookies, but she loved a lot."

"My mom never cooks, either. Mostly because we don't let her," I offer.

He smiles at that. "She was okay at it. She was just very tired after working all day. She was a programmer."

Every word seems to be costing him, and he hasn't told me _anything_ yet. The wounds are obviously fresh. But then, no one close to me had died, so it isn't like I really understand where he was coming from.

"She, uh, committed suicide. When I was fourteen."

There's nothing I can say to that, but Edward looks like he's on the edge of a breakdown, so I crawl across the bed to wrap my arms around his shoulders. He sinks into me but starts talking again.

"I came home from school, and I hated it so much. I wanted to go back to Phoenix because I had friends there and I didn't want to leave the state because of Phil but she couldn't handle it and she had a new job and I just wanted her to be happy but she didn't go into work that day, she just stayed home and swallowed an entire bottle of pills. Who does that, Bella? Who gives in? Why wasn't I enough for her?" He stops rambling to cry.

I don't have an answer.

"And it was Tuesday, that's what the calendar said, the calendar the pl bottle was sitting on, and if I just think about Tuesday, I don't think about my mom sprawled out in her own vomit because days of the week are supposed to be harmless and mothers are supposed to protect you and-"

I'm crying now, too, because this is the most he's ever said and he's too young, too fresh, to still be feeling it this strongly.

"It never stops," he says.

No, it doesn't.

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Twilight or anything else you recognize.

**A/N**: So it begins. This is going to get worse before it gets better, xoxo.

Also I updated in less than a week! Be impressed. Give me reviews about how much you hate me right now!

Speaking of reviews! The reason you got me to update so quickly is because we finally broke over 100 reviews! You guys rock my world.


End file.
